


Don't Let Go

by JustNibblin



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Angst, Endangered Species, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mystery, Plot Twist, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2018-08-15 11:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 119,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8054719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustNibblin/pseuds/JustNibblin
Summary: Dozens of species thrive in Zootopia, but not all are so lucky. Judy and Nick descend into the Nocturnal District to investigate a case involving an endangered species. The two young partners must navigate not only the moral complexities of the case, but also the complexities arising from their deepening friendship.





	1. Hold Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is my first post to Ao3, trying it out instead of fanfiction.net.   So please forgive my unadorned layout....

 

(Image courtesy of RedVelvetPanda)

 

* * *

 

How could something so terrifying also be so beautiful?

Officer Judy Hopps had seen fires before—the frequent campfires she had had with her family at Bunny Burrow, even the larger harvest fires to burn off chaff from the farm. But the fire struggling to emerge from this run-down tenement building in front of her was a different beast altogether. Thick oily smoke billowed out of windows, while flickering orange and purple flames erupted from widening gaps in the structure, licking eagerly at the external walls as they reached for the sky. The flames were a living thing, a predator licking its chops—

Bad analogy. She blinked her watering eyes and once again peered up from the street just in front of the building. Amidst the flashes of orange flame she could pick out another flash of orange, a tail attached to a fox working his way along the ledge.

“What does he think he’s doing?”

Judy turned to look at the elephant dressed in fire gear approaching her.

“We arrived just as the fire was starting and tried to help evacuate. But all stairways on the third floor were blocked or locked. My partner climbed up the outside to see if he could rig-“

Another portion of the wall collapsed, followed by a puff of heat as flames poured out the new opening. Judy felt her fur stand on end as she unconsciously backed a step away from the building. If the heat were this intense here, what would Nick be feeling right now?

“You cops should’ve waited outside until we arrived-“

“No time. There’s lots of people trapped on the upper six floors and you guys took nearly five minutes to get here.”

“We’re here now. Stand back and let the pros do their job, don’t complicate things further. Hope your friend makes it.”

The elephant unceremoniously shoved the young bunny back and gestured to his companions to bring the hose. Judy hated the nickname elephant firefighters gave themshelves-“firephants”-but she had to admit that it made sense that elephants dominated the fire departments in Zootopia. It sure came in handy to have a trunk that could squirt water thirty feet without relying on pumps.

Several firephants were already squirting water with their trunks into the bottom floors, while a large red fire truck finished putting down its stabilizers and began extending its white ladder to reach the higher floors.

Judy turned back, scanning for Nick’s tail again, well-camouflaged among the other orange flames. The fox had something cradled in his arms, and was looking around for some foothold to move down the building.

She saw the ladder stop with a jolt. The firephant that had been operating the controls from the cab was jumping out, running to assist the others in pulling out hoses. Judy ran to him.

“Hey, would you possibly mind moving that ladder over toward my – “

“Move!” Shouted the firephant as he hurried away, dragging the hose.

The superheated air from the fire was now distorting her view of the building behind. She saw Nick edge down the ledge toward the building corner, still clutching the bundle. The bundle moved and she saw a small paw reaching out. Part of the ledge above Nick fell, most of it crashing next to him, but a few chunks knocking him on the head. He swayed, fighting to keep his balance.

The firephants seemed outnumbered by the hoses they were struggling to attach to the dilapidated hydrants sitting on the corner. Well, if they weren’t going to use the ladder, maybe—

She hadn’t finished the thought before she had hopped into the cab and grabbed the controls. One of these things should rotate—

“HEY YOU! OUTTA THERE!”

No time to explain, just lock the door and roll up the—

A large round foot pounded on the window, cracking it.

Ah, here was the spin control, and here was the extender. The white ladder was now rotating around toward the corner where Nick was standing. If he could just reach it and grab it…

She hadn’t finished THAT thought before she was squeezing though the gap of the cab window opposite that of the angry firephant and scurrying rapidly up the gantry. Daylight vanished into nocturnal gloom as the smoke above her blocked the sunlight. In less than a minute she was the same height as Nick, riding the ladder as it swung ever closer to him. Nick hadn’t seen the ladder yet; the thick smoke had probably blinded him.

“NICK! She shouted, holding out a paw toward him.

His ears pricked, and he snapped his head around, eyes roving quickly. Almost immediately they bored into her own. He flashed his familiar grin, as if this were all a little lark, but then he frowned and spoke. Judy, now only ten feet away on the still-moving ladder, was able to hear him say

“Hey Carrots, where’s the brake on that thing?”

Oh yeah, she should have thought of that earlier. Too late now.

The ladder swung into the side of the building just after Nick was able to leap onto the frame. The collision of the ladder with the wall threw him off balance, and he shoved the swaddled baby in his arms towards the bunny, before he lost part of his grip and hung from the railing by one hand.

The ladder calmly ripped along the front façade of the apartment building, leaving a huge gash through several apartments. Several heads poked through the gap from now well-ventilated living rooms.

The ladder hadn’t been facing much resistance from the paper-thin walls of the run-down building, but now it hit something solid with a loud metallic clang, and the ladder abruptly stopped rotating. Nick managed to grab onto the ladder with another hand and hoist himself next to Judy, who was managing to steady herself on a rung with the young baby in one arm. She couldn’t help but notice that Nick still had his sunglasses tucked neatly into his chest pocket. And that his police uniform was still somewhat clean.

A swarm of squirrels, small predators, and other animals emerged from the gash and started descending the rungs next to the two partners, taking advantage of the precarious escape route suddenly available to them. A young ferret paused and grabbed the baby from Judy’s arms, barely stopping long enough to say “thanks” before vanishing further down the ladder.

Crouching next to Judy, facing back toward the long horizontal gash stretching along the wall, Nick’s watering green eyes met her wide-open ones, and he cracked a small nonchalant grin she was beginning to recognize as a self-defense mechanism for masking fear.

“All in a day’s work I guess—“

His smile froze, his eyes seemed to shift focus, and his face shifted into a blank mask of concentration.

“Hold me.”

Her heart froze for a moment as she stared at him, nonplussed. Then without another word, he leapt off the ladder.

The world seemed to freeze for a moment as she watched his torso, then legs, and then his long red tail pass by inches away in front of her face. It was a dream-a nightmare—where she too could only move in slow motion, her arm desperately swinging up toward his tail that inch-by-inch was slipping away from her. She managed to clutch the tip of his tail and felt her entire body start to lift away from the ladder. She managed to hook a foot under a rung before she felt her entire body stretch as it tried to absorb the sudden jerk that threatened to pull both of them off the ladder. Turning her head towards Nick, she saw him suspended in the air, paws outstretched, towards a toddler that was falling from the gash in the wall. She watched him catch it before a second jerk stretched every joint in her body.

“Don’t let go!” Nick shouted from what seemed a long distance away.

She guessed the fox was twice her weight, but she knew (she hoped) that her legs were strong for her size. She was falling backward, the end of Nick’s tail wrapped around both claws, trying to keep her foot hooked around the rung as all three of them arced underneath the thin white ladder. The street below moved into her vision and she saw a few firephants looking, jaws open, along with a few bystanders. She thought she glimpsed a smartphone pointing up before she felt her back start to wrap around the ladder as her heavy load continued to arc around. She felt her back start to creak as it nearly bent backwards at a right angle, rotating the fox and toddler so that they were now rising, rising back up the other side of the ladder…

…and Nick managed to grab another rung, and then the weight receded from her numb arms. She felt her hooked foot slip off the rung, but before she could even feel a flash of fear she felt a furry claw grab her wrist.

Nick, coughing terribly, hauled her up back to the ladder. He was stronger than she had suspected. He started to say something he presumably would have thought witty, but instead continued hacking uncontrollably amidst the river of animals descending down the ladder around them. Instinctively she grabbed the young toddler. It looked a bit like a fox, a bit like a wolf, but was not a species she recognized. The poor thing was sobbing, and she only had a moment to note the visible ribs showing through the toddler’s thin body before she clutched it in a firm hug.

The sound of small animals vanishing downward was replaced by the sound of large animals moving upward.

“Nick?” she said, realizing that the lithe form curled one rung up the ladder from her was now silent and unmoving. She struggled to juggle her screaming burden so she could reach up and feel for a pulse. She wiggled her fingers into the soft fur ringing his neck, trying to filter out the noise, the encroaching heat, and her own gasping---

Nothing.

“WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!” she shouted at his still form. No response. Then a sound like a foghorn blasted in her ear:

“WHAT IN THE WORLD DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!“

She snapped around back toward the firephant, who was yelling at her from just below her position, and snarled with such fury that the enormous mammal flinched and moved a step down the ladder.

“You’d better be a paramedic coming up here to help him, or I’ll, I’ll…”

She couldn’t say another word, as panic robbed her speech. Her sensitive ears twitched as she heard a murmur behind her, almost buried in the roar of flames.

The firephant, silent for a moment, shifted his gaze past her and said,

“Well, what did the fox say?”

She turned around to see Nick smiling weakly at her, through half-lidded eyes. Oh no. He was smirking. She knew what was coming....

“Hatte, hatte, hatte-ho”.

Her partner then coughed, and lapsed back to unconsciousness.


	2. Fencing

Chief Bogo carefully squared away the paperwork on his otherwise spotless desk. He then folded his hooves on top of the desk, and stared down over his spectacles at his two newest officers. He looked fresh as a daisy, and only the blackness of the windows and the clock on the wall betrayed the fact that it was nearly midnight.

“So,” he said, then waited.

The following silence reminded Judy of an approaching thunderstorm in Bunny Burrow. During those times the wind became eerily still, even though ink-black clouds were piled up over the horizon. Despite the illusion of peace, you knew that it was not the time to have a picnic.

The bunny and fox had come to know this office quite well over the short time they had been together on the ZPD. Nick, in fact, often joked that he had a reserved cushion over by the filing cabinet. She risked a glance over at his direction now, where he was silently sitting, clearly uncomfortable on his tender tail. A faint acrid smell of singed fur wafted through the otherwise pristine air-conditioned atmosphere of the office. Other than the smell, Nick was the living embodiment of a respectful, well-dressed police officer. This was the first time she had seen him since their high-wire dance a few hours ago (she had driven back to headquarters while he had had a mandatory hospital checkup), and she now realized that somehow he had cleaned himself up considerably.

Uh-oh. While there were many things she liked about Nick, his dress code was usually not one of them. Truth be told, he was often a bit sloppy about his uniform, and she was constantly reminding him while on patrol to tuck in his shirt or remove a spot of mustard from his collar before approaching civilians. However, the fox had an uncanny knack of sensing when he was in trouble with his supervisors, and during those times his sartorial sense improved rapidly. As she took in her partner’s meticulously-groomed fur, sharply-creased uniform, and –was his badge actually polished?—she couldn’t help feeling that this time they must be in some serious s-

“So,” continued Chief Bogo, “I have a report here from the chief of the Savannah Central fire district, explaining to me how one of my officers somehow hijacked a $400,000 piece of equipment and then proceeded to destroy it, along with the entire front façade of an apartment building, recklessly endangering both professionals and civilians, and also inciting a literal stampede down Dromendary St.” He looked up from the report and stared over his spectacles again. “Did I miss anything?”

When first facing this situation, Judy used to nervously chatter away like some nervous Nellie, hoping to fill the void with words and excuses. But that was before Nick became her partner.

“Did everyone get out of the building OK, chief?” asked Nick.

“Don’t try to answer my question with another question,” rumbled the buffalo. “But yes, there were no fatalities.”

“Sir, may I point out that had Officer Hopps not had the foresight to punch a hole in the wall, the downtown Zootopia fire district would be dealing with something much more tragic than a piece of equipment right now.”

July idly raised her eyes to stare at the ceiling. “Foresight” was not the word she would have chosen to describe her actions. But if she said nothing, it wouldn’t technically be lying, right? Although… somehow she suspected her mother wouldn’t have approved.

The Chief shot a steely glare toward the fox, and then turned toward Judy. “Officer Hopps, believe it or not, you are the senior officer involved. Please tell me, without interruptions-“ he shot another glare at Nick, for emphasis, “how this all started”.

The bunny lowered her eyes to meet Bogo’s stare with as much innocence that she could muster.

“Well, Chief, yesterday morning we were patrolling near Slot St. in Sahara Square—“

“Sahara Square? According to my chart you were assigned to Downtown patrol!”

Nick politely raised a paw.

“Uh, sir, we were technically in the Downtown area, as the Sahara Square Borough officially begins at Olive St-“

“Unless a cottontail is sticking out of your pants, Officer Wilde, I want you to be silent.”

Bogo stared back at Judy.

“Well, Chief, we were patrolling near Slot St., when Officer Wilde picked up a tip from one of his – sources.”

Actually, Judy was surprised at how often Finnick and Nick kept in touch. Part of her had thought, when Nick became an officer, that the small fennec fox would give his former business partner a wide berth. But early today, like many previous days, she had found herself watching the two foxes slapping their knees together at some shared joke, as she sat inside a cruiser, parked down the street. Whenever they were assigned patrol duty in the Downtown/Sahara square area, and whenever they caught sight of Finnick’s distinctive van, Nick would usually ask her to stop, so that he could get out and talk a bit with Finnick. Maybe their relationship did go deeper than just business convenience. More likely, the small fox found it useful to have a channel to the police, just as the tidbits of information Finnick gave to Nick seemed to come in handy. Not that she was getting cynical or anything.

While Judy wondered about the state of her soul, Bogo, with a resigned air, turned toward Nick, who straightened his posture in anticipation. 

Whenever these two went at it, Judy had the strange feeling that she was watching a boxing match. No, actually, something more elegant and faster-paced—a fencing match. Stranger still, she got the impression that Bojo and her friend actually enjoyed the tussle.

“And who was this colleague, Officer Wilde?”

Thrust.

“Sir, I’d prefer not to divulge the name.”

Parry.

“Given the trouble you’re in, you might reconsider that stance.”

Lunge.

“Sir, according to ZPD regulation 30.45-2, police informants can retain anonymity from an officer’s superior unless they are receiving financial compensation from the department, or unless physical injury to an officer occurs.”

Parley. Also a bluff. Nick was clearly not going to admit how tender his tail was.

“So your informant’s advice was free? What did he or she say?”

Retreat.

“That if Officer Hopps and I kept an eye on Dromendary Dr., something interesting might happen there.”

“’Something interesting was going to happen?’ That’s it? That’s all you could get out of your source?”

Advance.

“Since the advice was free, sir, I felt I shouldn’t quibble about it.”

Dodge.

“So, Officer Hopps,” said Bogo, abandoning the fencing session for the moment and turning toward her again, “having this detailed advice on hand, I presume you then proceeded to Dromedary Ave.?”

“Yes, sir. We patrolled around the area for about half an hour before we spotted a faint spiral of smoke emerging from the top story of one of the apartment buildings on the block.”

“What then?”

“We called the incident into fire dispatch, but even during the time we made the call the fire burst into an open flame out the window. The dispatch gave us a ten-minute response time.” She paused. “That seemed like a long response time, sir. Is that typical?”

For the first time, Bogo’s annoyance seemed directed at something besides them.

“No, the response time should be five minutes or less. But the area in question has always seemed to be a –lesser—priority for the fire district. What then?”

“Well, we stood across the street from the building for a minute or so, and saw animals leaning out the windows, coughing and crying for help. My ears are pretty sensitive, and I thought I heard them calling out about a locked door or something—so, Officer Wilde and I ran across the street to quickly check, and yes, the stairwell doors on the third floor were somehow locked or blocked from the other side. And the fire seemed to be spreading quickly-“

“-it was breaking out in several locations, sir-“ interjected the fox.

“-so we decided that we should try to work our way up the side of the building for one floor to see if we could fix the problem from the other side. The fire crew had still not arrived yet-“

“-not even a siren-“ the fox counterpointed.

“-so Officer Wilde climbed up the side of the building and into a third story window.”

“Why Wilde and not you?”

“I judged he was a better natural climber, sir.” Actually, it had been hard for her to stay on the ground, but Nick had been emphatic about the superiority of foxes to rabbits when it came to climbing.

Bogo shifted back to the fox, who sat respectfully at attention.

“Then what?”

“Well, sir,” said Nick, “I entered an apartment window, rushed into the corridor, and saw that the exit doors had been chained shut. I shoved past several animals pressed against the door and tried to break the MousterLock with my Maglite, but that was the moment that the fire on the third floor ignited.”

“Ignited?”

“Yes, sir. Something flash ignited on that floor and within a few moments I could hardly see through the smoke, and animals were rushing back into their rooms and slamming the doors. So I started to exit a window when someone shoved a baby in my arms.”

“Why didn’t you climb down the wall after that?”

“I can answer that sir,” Judy replied. “As Officer Wilde climbed out the window, two other firebombs went off on the second floor and the entrance lobby-“

“The cause of the fire has not yet been officially determined-“ Bogo began.

“They were firebombs,” Judy said pointedly, yet politely. “Luckily, the bottom two floors had already cleared out, so there was a small group of people standing with me who can corroborate my version of events.”

Nick raised his eyebrows in mock admiration at the use of the word “corroborate”. She ignored him and continued.

“The resulting fire and smoke blocked off Nick’s downward route, and he and the baby were forced to climb to higher floors, just as the fire department finally arrived.” She then related the following minutes to a mostly silent Bogo, before finishing with –“and when we got back down to the ground, I returned the toddler to his mother…actually, I’m kinda puzzled about what kind of animals they were.”

Next to her, Nick murmured, “coyotes.”

Judy stared blankly at her partner.

“Ki-oh- what?”

“Coyotes,” Bogo said. “According to this fire responders’ report a small family of coyotes were resident in the building.” Noting Judy’s puzzled expression, he added. “They’re an endangered species—there’s not many individuals left, and even fewer children.” He heaved a large sigh, then reluctantly snorted. “And it seems like you two may have saved the lives of a few of them tonight.” 

Bogo took off his spectacles and massaged his eyes carefully with his hooves. 

“I will admit that that rescue is a mitigating factor in what I otherwise find to be an appalling boondoggle. I shall be starting an official investigation with Internal Affairs. Meanwhile, both of you will be assigned to administrative leave until the results of that-“

At first Judy thought that the knocking she was hearing was her heart beating in her chest; it took her a moment to realize that the sound was coming from the closed entrance. The door opened slightly, and the chubby face of Clawhauser peered around the door.

“Meeting,” Bogo growled. “I said we were not to be disturbed.”

“Sorry, chief,” the chubby cheetah said, “but I think you’re going to want to take the Mayor’s call on line one. He—or at least his office-- has been holding for five minutes, and I thought maybe something’s wrong with your phone.”

Judy now noticed the small blinking light flashing urgently on Bogo’s desk. The phone seemed to be working fine.

Bogo’s frown deepened.

“Fine, I’ll take it. You two,” he said, pointing his hoof toward the door, “wait for me outside.”

Feeling that the full storm had yet to strike, Judy slid off the too-tall chair and walked with Nick out onto the interior balcony overlooking the impressive interior of the ZPD. In the distance far below, she could see the receptionist’s desk. Her ears twitched as she heard the receptionist in question clear his throat.

“Hey Nick, you never told me you were a flying fox,” giggled Clawhauser. He lifted his smartphone to reveal a snapshot. The two partners crowded around the phone. Someone had managed to snap a photo of Nick at the exact moment he was grasping the screaming toddler. Judy’s arm was also visible, clutching his tail, but the rest of Judy was cut off to the left of the frame.

She felt herself staring at Nick’s focused expression, empty of fear. He seemed like a baseball player leaping for a pop fly ball, every limb on his body stretched to the utmost, instead of an animal that had just leapt to his death nearly five stories above the ground. She had never marked Nick as being one for physical courage, yet here was evidence to the contrary, and she felt her emotions churn as the photo reinvigorated her memory.

“Where’d you find that, Clawhauser?” Nick asked, grasping the phone in his hand. He seemed only mildly interested in the picture.

“Well, it was posted on Gazelle’s website—the forums, but I think it was reposted from somewhere else.” Nick hesitantly poked a few buttons on the phone, but Judy held out her paw. The fox smiled slightly as he handed off the phone--they both knew who the tech junkie was in the partnership.

She worked back link upon link, and—“Looks like it was originally posted on some sort of news microblog—‘Fennel’s findings’?”

Clawhauser’s paws pulled the phone from her paws. “Sorry, Judy, gotta get back to the desk. Great job, you two. Nick, tell me when you’re going to start wearing the superhero cape!” He chortled his way along the balcony towards the staircase.

Judy resumed her original stance against the balcony railing, surveying the massive hallway of the ZPD. She sensed Nick leaning against the railing beside her.

“Angry with me, Carrots?”

She glanced askance at her partner, who was looking at her, and not the view.

“What makes you think so?”

“You want to hide your feelings, you need to get a bigger hat. Those ears of yours reveal all. And they flopped down to your head the minute you saw your photo. Actually one went down, the other half-mast-”

Ah, her ears. As a teenager she had gone through a phase where she had tied them to her head to try to hide her mood from her mother. She paused a bit before responding, staring back over the hallway, self-consciously stroking her ears.

“I’m not sure if I’m angry, scared, or just plain freaked out. I’m trying each one out to test which is the best fit.” She idly watched Clawhauser descending the stairs, pausing to catch his breath. “What were you thinking when you pulled that stunt?”

“I saw the kid teetering and about to fall, and there wasn’t really time to talk-“

“You know that if your tail was four inches shorter I’d be standing here alone right now, looking at black drapes hanging from the balcony? I barely had time to react, and I guess the impact is just now starting to hit me.” She shivered. “It just seems like you’re taking all of this a little cavalierly.”

She wasn’t looking at him when he replied. “I trusted that you would have my back. You’ve got the fastest reactions of anyone I’ve ever met.” Silence. “I admit it was a lot closer than I expected. Something must have distracted you just before I jumped.”

Something had, but she wasn’t going to admit it. “Nick, I’ve got your back, always. But if I had failed your regret would have lasted for only five floors. My regret would have lasted the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, I think I understand. ‘How dare you presume to trust me so much’, something like that?”

He was now leaning forward over the railing, not looking at her, and his stance reminded her of another time, back when they had first met, when he had the same expression looking out of a gondola. And just like then, she reached out a paw to touch his arm, and tried to smile.

“We’ve saved each other a couple of times now, but let’s try not to make it a regular habit. The number one cause of early death for bunnies is heart attack. I’d like to live a little longer, OK?”

And just like last time, he pulled his arm away.

“Yeah, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. It’s just that… just …”

Nick Wilde at a loss for words. Judy’s violet eyes widened and she turned to fully appreciate the historic moment.

“Wilde! Hopps! Back in the office!”

Bogo stood in the doorway, looking if possible even more disgruntled than usual. Nick shrugged resignedly, face neutral. He was one of the most expressive individuals she had ever met, but even now, over a year after first meeting him, she had a hard time gauging his mood. She sometimes wished he had bunny ears, just to help her read him better.

Back to the office. Back to the chair. Back to Bogo glaring at them from behind the desk, a small vein pulsing by his snout.

“That was the mayor. It seems that your little stunt has not gone… unnoticed.”

The chief tapped his hoof on the desk as he considered what to say next. 

“Our fair leader has heard about the coyote rescue, and has decided to hold a small press conference tomorrow morning, along with members of the coyote community, to highlight what he is calling ‘the courage and quick-thinking of both our police and firefighting professionals.’”

He stood, arms pushed straight down on his desk.

“For now, I’m going to hold off putting you both on leave, since this is a rare opportunity to honor the ZPD as an organization, and suspending the officers involved would look strange,” he huffed. “But in return I want you to go back to your source and find out what he or she really knows. Otherwise, I’m going to make you reveal his or her identity, and then I’m going to take them into custody as a suspect for arson and attempted murder. That might squeeze some more information out of them.”

“We’ll get right on it, sir,” Nick said, ears perking up. At least she could tell when he was relieved.

“No you will not,” Bogo replied. “The press conference is only a few hours from now, to make the morning news cycle. You might as well catch a few hours of sleep, so that you won’t look too miserable on camera.”

“Sir,” Nick insisted, “there’s no need for both of us to be there. Officer Hopps is the one who saved everyone—“

Bogo spun around his computer monitor, revealing a now-familiar photo to both of them.

“Like it or not, Wilde, for the time being both of you are the face of the ZPD. Go home, and try not to destroy anything else along the way.”


	3. Yah-tah-bay

“Thank you all for coming this morning”.

Well, it had been a close call for Judy. She squirmed uncomfortably in her uniform, which she had just picked up from the dry cleaners less than an hour ago. The porcupine proprietors had been very kind in cleaning it so quickly. She had forgotten to take her spare uniform in her locker at work after their meeting with Bogo, and she awoke in a state of panic after only a few hours of sleep in her closet apartment. But that was all in the past now, so she stifled a yawn as she stood at attention with Nick, Chief Bogo, and a group of firefighters, flanking Mayor Lionheart at City Hall, all resplendent in their best dress uniforms.

Well, almost all. The red fox was returning to form, having left his left breast pocket unbuttoned. He must be feeling more comfortable about their situation, she supposed. She nudged him and nodded toward the pocket. He winked back and snapped it closed.

“Too often, we, as citizens of Zootopia, take our public servants for granted, but every so often something happens that reminds us that heroes don’t just appear in movies, but also walk among us, in our police departments and fire stations…”

The Mayor was in fine form this morning, dressed in a luxurious suit and tie, with his mane fuller and richer than she remembered from a year ago. It was hard to believe that six months ago he had been in prison. She was a bit puzzled about how he could get elected as mayor again to quickly after breaking the law. When she shared this thought with Nick, he had simply said that getting arrested was the best thing that could happen to a politician, since it drove your name recognition through the roof. She still wasn’t sure if the fox had been joking—Nick still harbored a pretty dark view of the world that he occasionally let slip through, and she admitted that the life of a cop didn’t exactly encourage a rosy view of animal nature.

“Late yesterday afternoon a fire broke out on Dromedary St. and spread within minutes across the entire building. Amazingly, thanks to the rapid response of Fire Company 32, and some creative thinking from the Zootopia Police Department, not a single fatality occurred, even though the building burned to the ground.”

Judy looked up at the firephant standing next to her and recognized him as the same one that she had locked the door against yesterday while hijacking the ladder. She blushed slightly and shifted her gaze forward across the press gathering, although as she turned she thought his eye might have been twinkling as he glanced down, expressionless, at her.

“The quick actions of these defenders is even more significant, given that a family of some of our rarest citizens almost lost one of their cubs. But working together, our firefighters and police executed a truly spectacular rescue of one of our smallest citizens.”

The press corps stirred, and Judy guessed that the now-notorious photo was being displayed on the monitors behind them. She didn’t turn to look, but instead observed the final group of animals present on the far side of the mayor.

“I am particularly proud that two graduates of my Mammal Inclusion Initiative, bunny Officer Judy Hopps and red fox Officer Nick Wilde, managed to distinguish themselves in the line of duty-“

She had heard about endangered species, of course, when going to school in Bunny Burrow, but she had never met one, and she tried not to stare too openly. Bunnies, of course, were not in danger of going extinct anytime soon. What would that feel like, to know you were one of the last of your kind?

The group of coyotes—for that is what she assumed they were—looked something like wolves or foxes. Their fur was brownish gray, their tails were bushy and black-tipped. Most of them wore clothing she had never seen anywhere else in Zootopia, even inside the Sahara district. It seemed as if they were wearing large blankets as ponchos. Intricate geometric and abstract designs were woven into the colorful clothes, and fringes lined all edges of the ponchos. Several wore broad-brimmed hats, and the overall impression she had was that the coyotes were used to dressing for warm, dry climates.

Despite the bright clothing, she felt that most of these outfits were rather worn and shabby, perhaps ceremonial items dating back decades. Another impression that struck her was that almost all of the coyotes were elderly. All were thin, many had stooped backs and bedraggled fur, and not a child or teenager was to be seen. She looked for any sign of the toddler they had rescued or his mother, but the youngest coyotes she saw seemed middle aged.

Watching the group as a whole she felt like she were watching a species who had been run down by life for a long time, and who faced the future not with confidence but with grim resignation. Despite the festive bright clothes, the sight dispirited the normally buoyant bunny. She glanced at her partner, noting that he was staring thoughtfully at the coyotes as well.

The crowd gasped, and she and her colleagues glanced backwards at the monitors. She had not known that the photo was a just still from a complete video, and she caught a glimpse of Nick and the toddler swinging underneath the ladder, while her arm made a guest appearance at the edge of the screen, everything partially obscured by smoke.

The monitors faded to black.

“I’m honored to introduce Dancing Shadow, owner of the Evening Breeze casino in the Nocturnal District, and chosen spokesmammal for the Bitter Water tribe of coyotes living in Zootopia.”

The middle-aged coyote Judy had noted stepped forward. Unlike the others, he was wearing a suit and tie more typical of Zootopia business attire. He was also unlike the others in that he seemed to be relatively healthy and vigorous, with a tall posture, shiny coat, and bright eyes. The speaker struck her as not so much a representative so much as a cultural translator for the others, who seemed clearly uncomfortable in these surroundings.

“Thank you, Mayor Lionheart. On behalf of my species, we thank both you and the brave animals that have rescued one of our youngest. We are an ancient and proud people, with a presence on this land that stretches beyond even the founding of the great watering hole of Zootopia. Our numbers have never been high, and at times in the past the city government has even tried to persuade us to abandon our language, culture, our very identity as coyotes. It is to the credit of Mayor Lionheart and his recent predecessors that the city now tries to preserve all troubled species, especially by extending special housing and social services to help maintain the well-being of our people.”

Dancing Shadow soberly surveyed the bright lights and cameras assembled before him.

“But despite this support, our numbers continue to dwindle. As of the last census, less than two hundred coyotes are known to exist in the city, most in the Nocturnal District. And only ten cubs have been born over the past five years.” He nodded toward Judy’s line. “The bravery shown by Fire Company 32 and the downtown ZPD have helped secure the continued survival of our species.” He merged his paws together. “The mother and her young son who were saved wish that they could be here to thank their rescuers personally, but as you might appreciate, they have had an overwhelming experience over the past day and have retired to a safe and quiet location. Both are well and look forward to locating a new home. But on behalf of myself, our Elders—“ he waved his paw to the group standing behind him,  
“—and our species, we thank you once again. We would be honored if the officers accepted our gift”—he held up a small piece of pottery-“that our people traditionally offer to new friends of the tribe.”

Polite applause rippled through the crowd, and the mayor resumed his accustomed place at the podium.

“Thank you, Dancing Shadow. We’ll take questions in a moment, after myself and representatives of our coyote community congratulate our officers personally and provide their gifts.”

Sparkles of flashes erupted from the press crowd as Lionheart began to move down the line, followed by Dancing Shadow and his entourage.

Judy wasn’t sure how the mayor would react to the presence of his former arresting officer, but when he moved to her place in line he was nothing but smiles.

“Ah, Judy Hopps, a pleasure to meet you again under more pleasant circumstances,” he purred without a trace of irony. “You’ve now done two great services to my—I mean our—city in less than a year. I’m sorry if we keep insisting on putting you in the limelight—Chief Bogo has volunteered to take questions for the department, if that is your preference.”

Remembering what had happened last time she spoke on a microphone at a press conference, Judy promptly replied, “Thank you sir, and I’m delighted to have Chief Bogo speak for all of us.” 

A small painted piece of pottery dropped into her paws, and she turned to Dancing Shadow and his nearby companion, an elderly coyote, with a question on her mind.

“Thank you for the gift, sir. If you don’t mind my asking a question-- I noticed that the child we rescued—what’s his name?”

“Singing Water,” the casino owner said, cautiously.

“Well, Singing Water seemed a bit—how do I put it—thin. Is the family getting enough to eat?--”

She felt as if the temperature in the room had fallen several degrees. The smiles were still present, but the eyes seemed to harden. The elder coyote raised his muzzle slightly, as if trying to look over her. Apparently, she had offended the two, but she didn’t know why—

She felt the gentle pressure of a paw rest on her shoulder, and a familiar voice behind her said, “Yah-tah-bay, grandfather. May the wind always carry your scent behind you.”

The elder blinked, surprised, and rotated his head to look at the speaker, as did Dancing Shadow.

“You know something of the ways of The People, fox?” murmured the elder.

“One can only know the ways of The People by being a Person,” Nick said quietly. “But my mother taught me the importance of respecting our elders.”

The elder nodded slightly. Nick clamped his other paw down on top of Judy’s other shoulder, reassuringly.

“Officer Hopps has saved this child’s life, and now feels like a mother toward him. Like all mothers, she always thinks her children should eat more.” As he said this, she felt a small squeeze that seemed to suggest reassurance, but also a warning to keep quiet. Judy bit her lip and held her tongue.

“Yes, yes, that is a sign of a good mother,” agreed the Elder, while Dancing Shadow appraised Nick, rubbing his muzzle.

Lionheart, who had been greeting the firephants, approached the group, arms outstretched, basking in the flashes of press cameras that intensified as the group migrated toward the podium.

“We are now ready to take a few questions from the press—“ the mayor began.

Judy and Nick were on the flank of the group, and she took a moment to murmur out of the side of her mouth—“What happened back there, partner?”

Still eying the crowd, the fox murmured back in the same fashion. “Starvation is a very touchy issue with The People-I mean, coyotes. You raised some ghosts with that question. It’s OK, no way for you to know--”

“But how do you know so much—“

“Officers Wilde, Hopps? Would you please come stand next to me?” The mayor was peering at them from the podium. Both officers dutifully trooped up to the stand, as Bogo approached from the other side.

Hands rose into the air and the flashing became even more frantic. Judy had an unpleasant flashback to her last experience at a press conference, but she steadied herself and forced herself to look calm.


	4. Fennel's Findings

“Steady, Carrots—“ whispered Nick. She flashed a quick smile at him.

“Officer Wilde, did you know that the child you rescued was a coyote?”

After getting a nod of approval from Chief Bogo, Nick cleared his throat and said,

“Did I see a child about to fall? Yes, yes, I did.”

Judy worked to suppress her smile. Although her friend always insisted he hated the limelight, she suspected he was enjoying the attention as the questions piled on.

“Do you know what started the fire?”

Chief Bogo leaned over the podium. “The matter is still under investigation.”

“Did Officer Hopps know you were going to jump?”

“Did she manage to grab me? Yes, yes she did.”

A slim red arm jumped into the air, and the mayor pointed to it.

“Why did it take over ten minutes for the fire response to arrive? And why were the third-floor stairwell doors locked in the first place, when the building’s owner had been cited repeatedly by the city for just such a fire-code violation?”

Judy raised an eyebrow. That information hadn’t been released to the public. At least one reporter must have been present at the scene. Although it was hard to see through the strong camera lights, she was able to make out the silhouette of a young red vixen clutching a notebook and holding her paw with a pencil in the air.

The rabbit wasn’t sure who the vixen wanted to answer the question, but to her surprise Nick spoke up.

“Is that a good question? Yes, yes it is.”

A low chuckle rumbled through the room, and Chief Bogo, after flashing a frown at the two partners, stepped forward.

Judy groaned inwardly. Naive as she was about city politics, she suspected that joining public criticism of the fire department wasn’t going to help their case with the chief.

* * *

 

“We need to talk to that reporter,” Judy said, as the conference ended. Nick barely had time to nod agreement before she had hopped off the stage, hoping to locate the vixen inside the already milling crowd. Within moments she realized it would be a small miracle, as her small height reduced her view to that of a forest of legs and tails.

She looked behind her for Nick, but saw him swamped by press members as he landed on the floor, vanishing behind a forest of mikes and cameras.

She fought her way towards the crowd perimeter, and she caught a whiff of a scent that she recognized from numerous car patrols with Nick, although slightly different tinge. Fox musk. For a moment, ancient instincts tried to make her bilk, but she recovered very quickly and approached the young journalist, who swiveled her muzzle curiously toward the officer.

“Hi, I’m officer Judy Hopps, from the ZPD.”

The fox smiled pleasantly back.

“Of course I know who you are, Officer Hopps! It’s a pleasure to meet you in the fur, so to speak. I’m Fennel.”

Judy blinked. “Fennel? As in Fennel’s Findings? As in the blog that posted that video? Are you the one who took it?”

“Yes, the very one. It’s really taken on a life of its own, hasn’t it?”

“You can say that again. So you must have been present at the building during the fire?”

“I was.” Fennel blinked. Her emerald eyes met Judy’s, and the rabbit noted that her eye color was a slightly lighter shade than Nick’s.

“How did you get there so quickly?”

“Uh oh. Am I going to become a suspect for arson?” smiled the vixen. Her expression changed quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful. My muzzle tends to talk on its own sometimes—“

“Don’t worry, as you might have noticed, I know another fox that does the same thing.”

She smiled. “I certainly did. By the way, is Officer Wilde around as well? I’d be happy to answer your questions, but I was hoping you two might be willing to answer some of mine as well.”

“He got held up behind me--“

But at that moment Nick appeared, slightly disshelved, by her shoulder, and was an expression that told her that the novelty of fame had worn off quickly. “Wow, that’s a tough crowd to ditch. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name, Miss-“

“Please, just call me Fennel,” she said, lifting a paw to lightly grasp his own, while turning her back to Judy. Judy wasn’t offended, but couldn’t help but notice that Fennel hadn’t shaken her hand.

“Officer Wilde, Fennel is the one that shot the video.”

“So you’re the one that’s caused us all these headaches about that little stunt-“

“Little stunt? Officer Wilde, that jump was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen!” she gushed. “Your catch was really good as well, Judy,” she added kindly over her shoulder. “Especially since it seems that he initially caught you off guard.”

“Yes, he did,” Judy said good-naturedly. It wasn’t her fault that she had hesitated, but she wasn’t going to point that out now. She edged over so that she was shoulder-to-shoulder with her partner, facing the blogger again. “So, Wilde, I was just asking Fennel how she happened to get there so quickly to take the video.”

“I live just a block away; I smelled the smoke, and ran out with my cellphone just before the flames broke out.”

That was believable in principle, Judy thought. She knew the sensitivity of her partner’s nose. But that area seemed like a pretty shabby neighborhood for a reporter…

“So, Fennel, are you a reporter with any news outlet?” she asked.

“No, Judy, not really,” the vixen replied. “I just run my own news blog, reporting on things and places that traditional news services overlook and ignore.” She flicked a glance at Nick and murmured, “the bigger news organizations traditionally never hire, well, you know…” She looked demurely at the floor. She was doing a good job of looking demure. Oh, fiddlesticks, was Nick’s suspicion of everyone and everything starting to rub off on her?

But her partner was looking at Fennel with anything but cynicism. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” he responded. “Hopefully that video might open some doors for you.”

The diminutive vixen clasped her paws together excitedly. “Oh, my blog has gotten over 50,000 hits over the past 24 hours! It’s exceeded my wildest--“ She stopped suddenly and clapped her paws to her face, embarrassed. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry to be chattering away about internet hits when you-you two, I mean--almost died saving that little cub, and here I am exploiting it for my own career.” Again, she did the demure thing. Judy couldn’t help but notice the frayed edge of her skirt, and a small patch on the hem. There was no shame in Bunny Burrow in fixing up your clothes, but Judy knew that the standards were different in Zootopia. She felt a pang of pity for Fennel, then felt annoyed that she felt pity, and then was puzzled that she felt annoyed for feeling pity. Why was she looking for an excuse to dislike the vixen? Could she still be harboring prejudices against foxes that she had thought she had countered a long time ago?

“Hey, I know what it’s like to have to hustle to make a living, so no worries about the video,” Nick said. “Hope it helps you out.”

“Fennel,” interrupted Judy, “the reason I wanted to talk to you is that it sounded like you already know a bit about that apartment building. Did you know the coyote family that lived there too?”

“I’ve only met them briefly, when they first moved in. There was a little bit of gossip about them, since they’re really rare and everything, and so I thought it might make an interesting slice-of-life story, talking to them. I went and knocked on their door, and Sage, the mother, was very polite and all, but it was clear that they were very private people, and I respected that.”

“Moved in?”, said Nick. “How long ago?”

“Just a week or two ago, actually.”

“Do you know where they are now?” said Judy.

The reporter shrugged. “No I don’t. I didn’t even know they were gone until Dancing Shadow announced it just now. But given the state of that tenement building, I doubt they’re coming back there.” She turned to look askance at Judy. “Maybe you might answer some questions of mine. Why are you looking for them? Do you think they are related somehow to the fire?”

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” Judy smiled apologetically, “but I did want to check on the little one that he was OK. After all,” she playfully nudged her partner in the ribs with her elbow, “my friend here nearly pancaked saving him, and we don’t even know their names-”

Fennel’s nose flared slightly at the mention of “friend,” while gazing speculatively at Judy’s elbow. “The mother’s full name is Sage over Water; her baby is Singing Water, and she also has an older boy, around twelve I think, but I don’t remember his name offpaw. You know, she probably gets checks as part of the endangered species support program. Why don’t you check with the city benefits office and see if her contact information changes over the next couple of days?”

“That’s a wonderful suggestion, Fennel! We’ll go ahead and follow up on that. Is there a way we can contact you if we have further questions, or if you think of anything else to help with the fire investigation?”

Fennel fished in her purse and withdrew two business cards that contained her photo, an email address, and a phone number. No address.

“This should work.” She smiled as she handed the card to Judy, and smiled even more broadly when handing the card to Nick. “If you do want to track down the benefits,” she leaned down toward Judy so she could murmur in her ears—“ I suggest you go in person and talk to Peter at the Records Department. In fact, here, let me write down his phone number,” she added, snatching back Judy’s card and scribbling down a few notes. ‘Peter’s a genius with the city’s computer system, and a few minutes with him might save you hours or even days trying to hunt down this information online. I’ve visited him several times in the past, and he’s been very helpful with me on some of my other blog reports.”

She handed back the card, again smiling broadly, revealing a hint of fang. “I would suggest visiting instead of calling; he’s much more responsive if you show up in person.”

The sight of Fennel’s teeth caused an unbidden image of fox repellent to jump into Judy’s mind, and she guiltily shoved the thought away. “This is all very helpful,” she said, smiling broadly back. She placed her paw on Nick’s forearm. “Nick and I will look into it.”

Fennel nodded and shook hands with Judy, and then shook hands a bit longer with Nick, their paws lingering, the slight contrast between their fur color apparent. “I would love to talk with you longer, sometime, Officer Wilde, about your experiences with the ZPD, for my blog. A fox being on the police force, it’s been a big inspiration to our … kind.”

Wilde smiled back bashfully. Bashful? Nick? “Thanks. Actually, Judy here helped inspire me to join.”

Fennel made another toothy grin toward Judy, who smiled brightly back. Smiles all around. She nodded to both of them, wished them good luck, and moved away.

Judy turned to look at Nick, and watched his gaze following Fennel intently. “Careful there, partner,” she teased, “I definitely picked up a predator vibe there, but she wasn’t hunting me.”

“Why Officer Hopps! “ he grinned mischievously. “It almost sounds like you’re a little jealous! You want her for yourself?”

“Not really my type. Also, I’m not sure I believe her alibi.”

“Yeah, she has a nice smell, but her alibi kinda stinks,” he said, gazing off after the light-brown tail whisking to and fro as its owner left the building.

“Why, you can talk after all! I was starting to wonder. Com’mon, sly fox.” She grabbed his arm, urging him forward, “let’s go figure out what to do next.”

“Breakfast?” he grinned.

Somehow that smile caused a small restriction in her chest to relax, a restriction she hadn’t been aware of. The easygoing rhythm that she enjoyed with her quick-witted friend had seemed—off—over the past day, and she was relieved that things seemed to be getting back to normal.

“Great idea! I don’t think I’ve had a decent meal since the fire.”

They walked outside city hall past the central fountain, both instinctively heading toward their favorite coffee shop.


	5. Fountain of Truth

The mid-morning sun’s rays slanted gently through the central plaza fountain, scintillating small rainbows through the drifting mist, as butterflies peacefully fluttered through the surrounding trees. Animals lounged languidly on benches around the perimeter, and a couple of them glanced curiously at a jabbering rabbit marching by, next to a slouching, sunglassed, fox, her tense, jabbing hand motions in stark contrast with the tranquility around her. She fit into the scene about as well as a wolf crashing a sheep bar.

“O.K, let’s list what we gotta do,” Judy said, ticking off points on her paw. “First, we need to find Finnick, and find out what he knew about this fire beforepaw.” She folded a claw. “Then, that coyote family –the Waters--may or may not be involved in all of this, but I think it’s worth trying to locate them and see if they seem to be in trouble. And that reminds me--you’re going to have to tell me how you know so much about coyotes in the first place.” She glanced sideways at her partner. “What do you wanna tackle first?”

Silently the fox lifted his paw toward a giraffe-sized vehicle parked along the curb ahead.

“Coffee.”

It was too early in the morning to be rolling her eyes, but then again Judy often had found herself rolling them at Nick’s antics in the morning bullpen session, so on cue she flicked her eyes up toward the clear blue sky, and then toward the street vendor, whom they had visited many times before in the past.

Nick had a loyalty toward certain restaurants, cafes, and especially street vendors, to the point where Judy could tell where they would be stopping for lunch just by the neighborhood they were in. During their first couple months on patrol she had just thought that foxes (or maybe just Nick) loved routine in general, but after she had insisted on breaking the pattern once or twice and sampling a new eatery, she became uncomfortably aware of a similar sequence of events: the initial hesitant glances toward Nick upon entry, the frozen smile on the server approaching, the seating in a low-visibility location, the delayed service, the hasty check. Over the months she had begun to realize that it took a lot of effort to go to a new place, to battle the hostile headwinds of fox prejudice, and to have to repeat the process several times before the server’s smiles became more genuine and the atmosphere more relaxed. No wonder Nick preferred the tried-and-true, vs. the effort of “breaking in” a new place.

The beaver sitting on top of the vehicle flicked a friendly wave at the pair as he recognized reliable customers approaching, and then dropped a bucket-size cup of coffee onto a long ramp that rested on the roof of the vehicle. Like a small child heading down a slide, the cup descended until it approached a hippo that waited patiently a few feet downslope of the ramp. The hippo pressed a button on the ramp’s side, and what looked like a pinball flipper popped out onto the ramp, deflecting the coffee onto a flat shelf that sat at the hippo’s height.

Nick strolled along the ramp until he reached a section toward the end that was his height, and pressed the “coffee,” “cream,” and “sugar” buttons (the last one multiple times). A small conveyor belt ran parallel to the ramp, up to the vehicle’s top, and he tossed down a couple bills. Up went the money, and down came a cup only slightly smaller than the hippo’s. Before Nick could press another switch, Judy stepped in front of him and pressed it for him, activating the flipper in front of her that directed the coffee into her partner’s paws. She loved this machine. Flashing a small grin at her, but wasting no time, Nick flipped off the splash protector and shoved his muzzle into the brown ambrosia.

Judy had seen the effect of coffee on the fox many times before, but she was always amazed to watch the slouched figure in front of her stir and start to straighten up, as though he were a tire being inflated with air. A small gleam appeared in one eye, along with a small smile. Smiling back, she pressed a button for a small potato/carrot hash brown.

She turned back to watch a myriad of cup sizes float down the ramp above and below her, each one shoved off at the appropriate customer’s height. She found the whole thing fascinating—the various ingenious ways different animal sizes somehow managed to work together in one city—but the sight of the cups working their way down the ramp inadvertently brought up a different image of a crowd of animals scrambling down a ladder, which in turn brought up an image-

She frowned and looked down, feeling her pulse throbbing in her ears. At some point she was just going to have to sort through her feelings about yesterday. Either that, or just repress them, which would maybe be simpler.

A wrapped hash brown, along with another carafe-size cup of coffee, shuttled past her face and stopped next to her partner. Snapping out of her reverie, Judy glanced at the time on her phone and felt her foot begin to stamp impatiently. She turned on the fox.

“OK, now you’re just trying to annoy me,” she said, imitating his bored tone. “One bucket of caffeine is usually enough for you.”

“I’m just enjoying watching the little country bunny gawp at the ingenious ways that different animal sizes somehow manage to live together in harmony in the paradise that is my home town,” he grinned. “I got another order so that she can watch her gosh-darn neat machine in action a little bit longer.”

Annoyed yet a little embarrassed the fox could guess her thoughts so well, Judy frowned and put her fist on her hip. “Sure, go ahead and drink up another bathtub. I’m sure we have all the time in the world before we hear from Bogo.”

“You know that I live for two things in the morning: a shot of caffeine, and your dulcet voice prodding me into action.” Some expression she couldn’t quite place flickered across his face –could it be fondness? And then the fox changed, the slovenly silhouette of Slacker Nick melting into Officer Wilde, ears perked, eyes sharp, a posture straight and forward leaning, a mammal ready to Serve and Protect, a Junior Scout Ranger grown up. “Let’s start with my wayward little kid, then. Just finding him is gonna be harder than you think.”

Witnessing this kaleidoscope of personalities both fascinated and frustrated Judy. Which was the real Nick? Why did she, the prey half of the partnership, always feel like she was the one hunting down her predator partner?

“What do you mean? Can’t you just text him?”

“I could, but we’d never hear back from him. Doesn’t take a genius to guess why I’d be contacting him right now--he knows he’s going to be wanted for questioning, after his little tip blew up—literally—in our faces.”

“But won’t he at least answer questions by text? Can’t we just tell him we need to talk to him, and not bring him in?”

“He’s not going to text us anything. Texts are evidence. My little buddy is paranoid and suspicious about writing anything down. Taught me well.” He hesitated, “Not that I’ve actually used that advice or anything.”

It all made sense. The rhythm of her foot tapping went from impatience to deep thought, and she absently deflected her sliding hash brown onto a shelf next to her.

“Think he’s hiding his van too?”

“Yep. Think about it. When you were trying to find me that… one time, how long did you have to look before you found him?”

She knew exactly what “one time” he was referring to, a time neither liked to mention. As she thought about her search using the Hopps family truck, her heart sank. “Almost half the day.”

“And that was when he wasn’t trying to hide,” Nick added. “It could take days, if at all, to find him the brute force way. No, what we need is some way of making him want to contact us.” He drummed his fingers on his coffee carafe’s rim, and then his other paw started wriggling around his chest pocket, pulling out a card. His eyes narrowed, and the fox changed again. Hustlin’ Nick, calculating the odds.

Pulling down his arm, so she could see the card, Judy saw Fennel looking back at her. Arching an eyebrow, she looked up at Nick.

“This is going to sound a little stupid.”

“No problem, I’m used to it.”

Nick rubbed the back of his neck with his paw. “Thing is, Finnick kinda thinks himself a bit of an expert on the secrets of romance, and he’s never been shy about giving me advice on my love life.”

Against her will, Judy felt her ears snap to attention, and a chuckle starting to bubble up from her chest. She valiantly fought to tamp them down to a more polite attitude. This topic was something neither of them had mentioned to each other before.

“Finnick? That little fox? An expert? Most vixens should tower over him, right?” She resolutely shut down her imagination.

He broke eye contact, looking toward the ground, ears lowering slightly. “Umm… how can I put this? Finnick has found that the ‘mother instinct’ can take on a variety of … interesting forms…”

“Oh, sugar and cinnamon….”. Even after all this time in Zootopia, the city could still make her feel like a naïve country bunny. Her imagination struggled to break free. She clamped down harder.

“More like sugar and sauerkraut.” Nick looked back up at her. “It’s an interesting taste, for sure, but definitely not for everyone. But here’s the thing.” He pointed at the vixen’s picture. “Suppose I set up a meeting with her, like that interview she requested, and I tell Finnick I’d like his opinion on this new woman I’m meeting, and send her a photo. He’ll probably suspect something, but he’ll have a hard time resisting, and I might be able to catch our fish with this hook.” He paused, looking at Judy sideways out of his eye.

Judy herself was trying to gauge her reaction. “So you’re going to question Finnick in front of a person of interest in this case?”

“No. At least, I’d try not to, until I manage to see Fennel off after the meeting.”

“I see…” she hesitated. “I mean, it strikes me as kinda far-fetched, but you know Finnick better than me… it’s just, about Fennel…”

“What?”

She searched his eyes for the presence of anything other than honest curiosity, and couldn’t find anything.

“Well, you’re asking her to meet you, the same day after you just met. I’m pretty sure she’s going to think you’re asking for a date. In fact, that’s what you’re going to imply to Finnick, right?”

“Maybe so. So what?”

“Well, are you? Treating this as a date, I mean?”

Nick’s face melted into a soulful, pained look.

“Carrots, I already have one optimistic do-gooder young female mixed up in my life, determined to make the world a better place, and because of this, I now have to wake up at an unnatural hour each morning and nearly get killed on a regular basis—“

“Hey, yesterday was your fault,” she muttered, grinning slightly.

“—so why in the world would I possibly want to get involved with another one? And why are you asking, anyway?”

“Well, I was just thinking if I were in her place, the whole thing would seem, like, I dunno, dishonest. Underpawed, you know? Kinda less-than-straightforward with your friend, too.”

Her partner raised his sunglasses and looked at her, the morning sun reflecting off his verdant eyes. 

“Well, I’m not worried about the ethics of tricking Finnick, he’s gotten me good several times in the past, so karma’s fine there.” He pulled off his sunglasses and began tapping his snout, looking off in the distance. “Now, Fennel. Yes, we’re trying to use her, but she may very well be trying to use us. Didn’t we both get the vibe that she might have an ulterior motive in talking with us? It’s perfectly understandable that she’d be attracted to me—I mean, who wouldn’t be?-- but I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t believe she has some sort of hidden agenda as well. At the very least, she’s a reporter with an up-and-coming blog, who wants to snag an interview with me. At the worst—well, her presence at the fire was awfully convenient for her. So I’m just going to meet her in a nice, neutral place, I give her a nice boilerplate interview to help her website stats, she helps lure Finnick in, Finnick gets to criticize my judgment once again. Everybody wins.” 

“If that’s what you really think, then you haven’t had much success with women in the past, have you?”

Nick’s eyes widened in surprise momentarily before catching himself. “Ouch, Carrots,” he said, placing his hand to his heart. “Why the claws?”

“Not trying to be nasty. It’s just… I don’t have long bushy tail or a long muzzle or anything, but I’d like to think I can recognize honest flirting from a vixen when I see it. It may be all an act on her part, but I didn’t get that feeling from her, and I’d rather not see someone’s feelings being… toyed with… so cynically.” She raised both paws in frustration. “You know what? You’re right. Forget it. I shouldn’t say anything unless I have another suggestion, and I don’t right now, so you’re right, I should just trust your judgment.”

Nick paused for a moment, then pulled out his phone, photographed the card, and texted it to Finnick. Judy whirled away, disquieted, ears descending, watching the ramp once more. She felt a paw on her shoulder.

“Judy.”

Surprised, she looked back at him. He seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking.

“Believe me, I understand what you’re saying. I’ve been a conman most of my life, and it’s hard to break a habit of looking at others as more than just a mark or a challenge to overcome. I used to think that way about everybody, until this guardian angel came into my life, put me on a new path, and showed me what friendship really is.”

He was trying to make her blush. Must. Fight. Blush.

He paused, winked at her, spun around, and threw out his arms dramatically.

“Now I stride a straight and narrow path of righteousness; guided by a pure soul who even manages to worry about the feelings of an utter stranger.” He clasped his clenched paw to his chest and whiplashed back, facing her. “How can I not fail to heed the advice of this beacon of rectitude—“

“All right, all right, I’m not a saint ya know…” She couldn’t read whether he was mocking or sincere. His gestures and his smile were mocking, but his eyes…. Was it possible that someone could be both at once, could hold two opposite attitudes at the same time? Mocking and sincere? Mincere?

“—the keeper of my moral compass as I trudge through the nihilistic morass of Zootopia-“

She punched him affectionately in the arm.

“Stop being a dork… you dork.”

He hesitated, frozen into a dramatic pose that was drawing curious side glances from both the beaver and several patrons. He dropped the pose.

“Well, with a potty mouth like that, I guess you’re not a saint, after all. How about just a good friend with good judgment?”

All she could do was smile. She couldn’t stay annoyed with him.

His phone vibrated.

“Well, looks like the fish are nibbling today. So before I contact our Gal Friday, Carrots, what does this feminine intuition of yours advise me to do to make this meeting more a ‘business’ feel than a ‘first date’ feel? Coffee shop should work, right? Which one?”

She found her voice again. “Someplace corporate and generic. Noisy, busy, lots of animals getting things to go.”

“Snarlbucks.”

She nodded in agreement. “Snarlbucks.”

“Gotcha.” He tossed the sludge at the bottom of his carafe down his throat, and turned to go, whipping out his phone and copying in Fennel’s number. He tapped his fang with a claw as he considered what to write, then paused, glancing back at her hesitantly.

“I’d invite you to come along—“

“But Finnick wouldn’t like seeing the rabbit cop there, so you don’t want to risk me eavesdropping,” she finished. “No, I understand I’d just tangle up this web of intrigue you’re weaving. Besides, who wants to be a third wheel anyway?” She winked, and was surprised and gratified to get a flicker of surprise from her partner’s ears. “Anyway, I want to take the patrol car and go look up some records about the Waters.”

He pumped his head quickly, slipping his glasses back on. “Oh, yeah, right. Sure. You think there might be some link there, don’t you?”

They were now both walking past the central fountain back toward the ZPD. Nick finished typing on his phone, and placed it in his pocket. The two strolled along with a relatively leisurely gait.

“Uh-huh. An coyote family moves into a slum, and the place is firebombed a week later? Maybe it’s chance, but I’ve just got a feeling.”

“Well, that intuition of yours is working overtime, isn’t it?”

“Hmm,” she replied absently, focusing on him again. “By the way--Yah-tah-bay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re holding out me, partner. You never told me you were a man of The People.”

“Oh, that.” There was a microscopic hesitation that Judy almost missed, and then he looked at her. “Yes, I’ve told you, I know everybody, and I’ve crossed paths with the coyote community before.”

“When?”

Nick’s phone vibrated. Nick lifted his visors again, and raised his eyebrows quickly.

“Well, that was quick. Snarlbucks it is, in two hours. Better pass that on to Finnick.” As he typed, he said, “Let’s just say that I’ve crossed paths enough to know that you were setting off a bomb with your comments about the skinny little pup.”

“How?”

“How much do you know about the founding of Zootopia?”

“Well, we covered it a bit in school.”

“High school, right? I’m sure you were valedictorian, so this should be a breeze. What do you remember about the founding? This is a test, now.”

Judy leaned against the rim of the giant fountain, and spread her arms to encompass the water. “It was right here, wasn’t it, several thousand years ago, that the species formed a pact not to eat each other anymore. In fact, there was a painting of lions and zebras shaking paw to hoof in the Natural History Museum during our… you know.”

Nick nodded. “Yep. There’s all sorts of guesses why that agreement initially happened. A change in climate threatening the water supply for everyone. Some amazing spiritual leader. Who knows. Writing wasn’t invited until a thousand years after Zootopia began. And a thousand years can hide a lot of stories.”

“Such as?”

“Well, do you think it was easy for predators to change their eating habits from meat to bugs? I suspect this great Zootopia founding brotherhood arose not from mutual understanding, but because the prey communities had just become too organized and too well-armed.”

“I never thought about it much.”

“No one does, because we—predator or prey--aren’t encouraged to remember the more uncomfortable aspects of our history. But when I crossed paths with the coyote community-- they have oral traditions—stories, songs—that they claim have been passed down from the very founding of Zootopia. And according to these songs, it was centuries—centuries!-Carrots, before the predator species were finally able to find a diet that allowed everyone to sing Kum-by-ya together. And some predator species adapted better than others.”

“Let me guess. The coyotes didn’t adjust well at all.”

“That they did not. They were a distinct, proud group, religiously attached to their traditional diet.”

“Which was?” 

“Mushrooms and –“ Nick slowly turned his head, face completely blank. Somehow she instinctively knew the answer before he said it.

“Rabbits.”

She closed her eyes.

“Yes, and according to the coyotes I talked too—grain of salt and all that-- it was hard to find a replacement for rabbit. And many aspects of their diet had strong religious beliefs associated with it. For example, coyotes believed that if you ate rabbit you inherited some of their characteristics, such as speed, and—“

“And what?”

Her partner grinned devishly. “Fertility.”

Judy could not look Nick in the face anymore, turning instead to stare into the fountain.

“So according to the ancient songs,” he continued, "Zootopia is founded, diets are changing, but a few centuries later the coyotes are still claiming that their substitute diet is missing something essential, and their population is shrinking from some dietary insufficiency—“

“Could that be true?”

Nick shrugged. “Depends on whose version of the past you believe. This is before writing, remember. But the songs claim that eventually an alliance of predator species, including the coyotes, tried to break away from the city and return to their “natural” state, including, shall we say, dietary habits. By that point the coyote population was only a quarter of its initial size. A terrible battle finally took place, and I’m sure the heroes and villains depend on who’s doing the telling.”

“But clearly the side the coyotes were on lost.”

“Oh, most certainly. And of course the coalition that won wrote the history, and wasn’t exactly sympathetic to a group of animals that had kept trying to eat their largest block of citizens. So even as the coyote population continued collapsing, I bet that the powers-that-be simply shrugged their shoulders. ‘They brought it on themselves,’ ‘maybe this is all for the best,’ and so on.”

Judy was silent, staring over the water, so Nick continued.

“By the time written history begins, coyotes and many other species are now a fraction of their former size, fragmented, isolated communities that are being absorbed into the constantly expanding boundaries of Zootopia. That is the point where your history books probably started.”

Judy stirred. “So what about these benefits endangered species get? When did that start?”

“Only about a generation ago. Before then, coyotes were either officially ignored, or there were even attempts to snuff out the culture, break up pups from their families and go to boarding schools, and so on. And all this time you get this cycle of poor animals not being able to feed their families, stunting their health and growth, leading to further problems and even less ability to cope with them. But yes, Carrots, it’s very noble for Zootopia to try to subsidize endangered species, even if it is probably too little, too late.”

His partner planted one leg on the edge of the fountain, staring into the water. She suddenly clapped her hands to her face and moaned.

“And so when I asked about the little pup this morning …”

“What the elders saw was their former lunch criticizing their community for letting the newest generation starve, even though her ancestors have played a role ensuring that starvation.” Nick chuckled kindly. “I appreciate the irony, Fluff, but not everyone has the sense of humor that I do. And no, you’re not a dumb bunny. Don’t think that. You haven’t caused riots in the city this time.”

Judy started guiltily; she had just been thinking how Zootopia kept exposing her stup—naivety. Here she was, years living in Zootopia, and she felt like she had never left the farm. She was certainly going to avoid public speaking ever again.

“I’m actually amazed, Carrots, that you noticed how thin the pup was. I don’t remember noticing that.”

“Well, you are pretty self-centered.”

“Hey, thanks for that. Passing out on the ladder probably took some of my keen detective powers away as well.”

“OK, you might have a point there.”

They stood side by side, staring over the water, across that plaza that Judy realized might well have been a battlefield over a millennium ago. Oddly, their conversation felt awkward and a bit intimate, despite discussing events pack in the murky past. She supposed that it didn’t get more personal than someone gnawing on your bones. After a moment’s hesitation, she felt like she was asking a very personal question when she said, still staring at the fountain, “So what side were the foxes on? This great battle, I mean?”

Nick sighed, still staring at the fountain as well, standing a bit stiffer than his usual posture.

“I only met by grandmother once or twice, but I do remember a legend she once told me. She said once foxes started off in a “brotherhood” with the coyotes and some other predators and fought a great battle against the rest—I have no idea if this is the great battle the coyote songs refer too-- but eventually the foxes switched sides to the majority, ensuring the collapse of the fighting. Grandma said that even though that decision probably prevented a massacre, after that no one trusted foxes ever again, neither predator nor prey.”

The fountain kept spouting, generating a soothing sound of running water, water that was oblivious to their discussion, as it had been oblivious to the transient lives of mammals for centuries. 

“Thanks for the history lesson, partner.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, I’m still going to look into this family and see that they’re OK, as long as they don’t try to feed me to the pup.”

“Sounds like a plan, cottontail.”

“Good luck with your date, Nick.”

“You’re going to hold this one over me forever, aren’t you?”

Fox and rabbit stood silent for a moment, the fountain sparkling behind them. Then they both nodded to each other and started to walk apart. But Judy took about ten steps, then stopped. “Nick?”

The fox glanced back over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry if I sounded nasty to you last night. I was just scared.” She paused for a moment. “For the record, I think that jump you did was an amazing thing.”

A small lopsided grin appeared on his muzzle.

“I was only doing what you would have done.” And suddenly, like a sunbeam emerging from behind a fogbank, a flash of what she swore was a real smile appeared. Not a mincere smile. A sincere smile. She was stunned.

“But it’s good you didn’t do the jumping yesterday. Your tail’s shorter than mine.” And the sunbeam vanished so quickly she wasn’t sure it had even been there. He waved her a mock solute and turned away.

It took her half an hour to realize that Nick hadn’t answered one of her questions.


	6. Hide and Seek at Snarlbucks

The Department of Records was only a ten-minute drive from the ZPD headquarters and City Hall, but it felt like it existed on another planet. Judy’s parents were firm believers in the platitude, “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all,” and Judy generally tried to follow this advice for people, places, and things—she tried to find something nice to say about any noun.

 But she was struggling to say something nice about this building. Unlike the elegant fluid motifs that lay behind the ZPD headquarters or City Hall, The Hall of Records only exuded an impression of a place that had been built to house stuff quickly and cheaply. Over the centuries, the amount of stuff to be stored had grown, and so additions had been hastily tacked on, without regard for harmonizing architectural themes, colors, or styles. The end result was a place that superficially resembled one of the larger rabbit warrens in Bunnyburrow, but without the warm, cheerful cozy feeling that she felt when surrounded by hundreds of relatives.

            She sat in a guest computer hall, surrounded by faint flickering florescent lights, with only a small beam of natural light stretching forlornly across the hall from a small round window hidden near the ceiling. While she had finally found a computer terminal that roughly matched her size, she discovered the computer only ran an ancient operating system that was all text-based, and displayed the database in glowing green letters across the screen. A dusty, thick binder of instructions moldered next to the terminal, and Judy had just spent 20 minutes figuring out how to navigate from the top menu to the particular database that concerned endangered species benefits. And then the screen froze and the system began to reboot.

            A small squeal of frustration erupted from her mouth, and she banged her head against the keyboard, raising a small cloud of dust around her face, prompting her to sneeze. Forehead lying on the keyboard, she closed her eyes for a moment.

            She heard a small pneumatic ‘pop’ next to her, and then heard the sound of small claws shuffling up to her. Raising her head, she saw a small chipmunk wearing aviator goggles and a very loose jumpsuit cocking its head at her curiously.

            “Officer Judy Hopps?”

            Judy wasn’t fazed by the oddly-dressed rodent, mainly because over the past twenty minutes she had seen hundreds of them flying through the nest of transparent pneumatic tubes that spread throughout the complex like a collection of vines growing wildly over an untended garden. The chipmunk, in turn, seemed unperturbed to see a frustrated patron with a smudge of dust across their forehead.

            “Yes?”

            “Hi, you filed a request to meet with a Peter Hodges? Benefits Office?”

            The phone number Fennel had given her had immediately gone to voicemail, so Judy had been prepared to go at it on her own, but as an afterthought she had filed a request to find Peter at the reception desk before tackling the public computer hall. To be honest, she wasn’t sure how serious Fennel had been when she had given her the contact, so she had handed the request slip to the dour marmoset secretary without much expectation. Now, however, she seized on the chance like a drowning sailor grabbing a rope.

            “Yes, yes I did? Is he available?”

            “Right this way.” The little chipmunk unwrapped a large handkerchief that she had wrapped around her legs like a sarong. It was an eye-watering clash of day-glo pink and and turquoise, and Judy couldn’t help thinking that Nick probably had a shirt with that pattern buried somewhere in his closet. “Just follow this pattern down the tube.” The little female lowered the goggles over her eyes, and jumped back into the tube entrance next to Judy’s terminal. The handkerchief billowed into a small parachute, and the chipmunk launched straight into the air toward the ceiling. Judy hurriedly gathered her notes and hastened after the pink/blue flag that was transiting down the tube rapidly out of the room.

            The rabbit rapidly lost track of the twists and turns through the maze of hallways, doorways, and corridors that her guide threaded through, but a few minutes later the flag disappeared into a tube that penetrated a wall above two frosted glass doors that read “Benefit Programs: Specialty Populations”. Judy pushed open the doors and saw her chipmunk messenger gently descending to a tube exit inside one of several cubicles that populated the large room.

            “Thanks,” Judy said, approaching both the chipmunk and the figure seated next to it. “That looks like fun.”

            “I dreamed of going to flight school as a kid, but never imagined I’d be doing it as a job,” grinned the rodent cheekily. “Gotta watch out for hearing loss, though, from wind blast.   Anyway, good luck with your meeting.” And with that she was gone.

            Judy turned her head to face the animal that was now rising from his chair in greeting. The first impression she had was of the clothing; a pair of mismatched socks and a plaid shirt that horribly matched with a pair of wrinkled cargo shorts.   She idly wondered why she was thinking of tastes in clothing, when she herself was not exactly a fashion role model. The next thing she realized was that he was a rabbit. The fact that his ears had been dropped behind his shoulders had masked his identify for a couple of seconds, but his ears were now picking up with interest, and she saw that they were black, tipped with gray, an almost perfect inversion of her own ear color pattern. From what she could see, the rest of his body was a light charcoal-tinged gray, except for the white-tipped paws. Minus the ears, his height was only slightly taller than hers.

“Officer Hopps? I’m Peter. Welcome to the Records Department. It’s a bit of a museum; some spots here don’t even have phone service, much less an email connection.”

The third impression she had, as she looked at his toothy grin and into his green eyes, was that he was actually a very handsome rabbit, despite the unkempt appearance of his fur, and the best attempt of his wardrobe to make him look frumpy. Clearly he had no girlfriend; no self-respecting doe would allow a boyfriend to wear a shirt like that.

“Hello Peter. Judy’s fine. Thanks for meeting with me on such short notice.”

“Hey, no problem. Congratulations, by the way, on that great rescue you did yesterday. Makes me proud to be a rabbit when I see stuff like that.”

Must. Not. Blush. “Just doing my job.”

“So yesterday was just a routine day at the office for you?”

She laughed. “Luckily, no.” Inwardly, she winced. Her laugh was sounding dangerously close to a titter. Perhaps it was the smell. There was a nice grassy aroma surrounding him that made a part of her feel homesick for the farm. Something that brought to mind fresh air and blackberries. She was forcibly hit by the realization that she saw relatively few rabbits day-to-day in Zootopia, and that being in the presence of one was—comforting.

“Well, I’m originally from Bunnyburrow too, and it’s always good to see someone from the hometown. Actually, it’s good to see anything alive visiting here. This is not the most lively place in the world,” he grinned good-naturedly.

“Bunnyburrow, really? Where?”

“My parents ran the hardware store on Parsley Lane. I remember that they sold a lot of supplies to the Hopps farm. Saw quite a few Hopps family members pass through as well. Don’t remember meeting you though.”

Some pleasantries passed about high-school graduation dates and mutual friends from high-school, and when Peter smiled Judy felt her heart rate increase for a moment. He really did smell— _nice._

She tried so hard to think well of people, and to fight back stereotypical impressions, but she was starting to suspect that a certain _sly vixen_ had suggested Peter not just for assistance in a records search (although she had to admit that she was going to need help with the antiquated systems). She suspected an ulterior motive, one she was reluctant to spell out to herself. But as Peter turned to his terminal and offered her a seat, she thought, _Watch yourself, Nick._

 

* * *

 

Nick sat at the antiseptic white Formica table at his friendly neighborhood Snarlbucks #502, dressed in his favorite green shirt and brown slacks, tie dangling loosely around his neck.   He played with his phone, but his full attention was directed elsewhere, as he kept glancing at the glass entrance door. He straightened up as a small tan muzzle poked cautiously through the door, followed by a small head and two giant ears, which swiveled from side-to-side as it scoped out hostile territory. A few more glances around and a few sniffs later, Finnick stepped into the building. He was dressed in a tie-dye Tshirt and camouflage shorts that Nick guessed had been pulled off the children’s section at Wallaby-mart. He approached Nick, scowling.

“Satisfied that no one is going to jump out and arrest you? No unmarked cop cars surrounding the place?” grinned the red fox.

“I’ve seen the news,” growled his pint-sized former partner. “Seen what you did. I know what you’re up to sending me that dame’s picture. There even a dame for real?”

“Well yeah, there’s a dame, and of course I’ve got questions about yesterday, but that’s for another time, and another place.” His arm patted the high chair set next to him. “Right now I want you to observe this vixen I met this morning, and let me know if you think she’s trying to play me. She says she’s a reporter, but—I dunno. You’re always telling me that you know what women want, so I want you to tell me about her.”

“Yeah, I know what women want. They want me.” Finnick clambered up the high chair and plopped down, attracting mildly curious glances from the steady stream of take-away customers idling patiently in line. “So just to make sure I got this straight. A pretty girl gives you her picture and her number, and you immediately think she’s trying to hustle you”. He grinned sardonically. “Your self-confidence is as healthy as ever, I see. Though I gotta hand it to you—you’re even more paranoid than I am.” He glanced around at the décor, sneering. “Snarlbucks? Really? Looks like you’re trying to set up a business meeting here, not a date.”

Nick lowered a feeding tray in front of Finnick and snapped it into place.   “Well, I’m babysitting you for a relative, right?   I’m hardly going to meet her at a candlelit restaurant…”

“Sure you want me around, Wilde? With the romantic judgment you’re showing, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up leaving with me instead.”

Any retort Nick was forming died on his lips as the door swung open again and Fennel entered, clutching a small notepad.   She had changed her outfit from the morning, and was now wearing a lime short-sleeved blouse and lilac-colored dress. Nick admitted that she was easy on the eyes as she walked across the floor, her face lighting up as she spotted them.

“Hello, Officer Wilde,” she chirped brightly.

“Hello, Ms. Glendale,” Nick said, “and please just call me Nick. I’m off duty right now, as you probably can tell from how I’m dressed.”

 “Oh yes, I noticed your, um, _stylish_ outfit as I came in. And please call me Fennel. When someone says ‘Ms. Glendale’ I feel like an elementary school teacher. Speaking of which, who is this cute lil’ guy sitting next to you?”

 “Well, he’s the reason I went off duty a little early today. A distant relative had a sudden need of a cubsitter for a couple of hours, and it turns out I’ve been encouraged to take the day off anyway, so—“

“Filled your hero quota for the week, did you?” As Nick smiled modestly and flicked his eyes downward, she narrowed her eyes at Finnick and sniffed, confused. “Is that a cappuccino he’s drinking?”

“Ah,” Nick muttered, lifting the paper cup off Finnick’s tray, drawing dagger-eyes from his partner. “I didn’t say I was a _good_ cubsitter”. Finnick raised his arms imploringly toward the young vixen, eyes as large as saucers. “Um, Fennel, meet Sammy.”

“What an adorable little thing you are,” she cooed, as Nick reluctantly released the tray latch, and she lifted Finnick in the air. “And, um, my, what an _enthusiastic_ little hugger you are—“.

“Yeah, he’s real friendly, be careful,” grumbled Nick, hastily standing up and peeling his former partner off of Fennel. “He’s still a little young to know about personal boundaries yet—“

“Oh, my sister has a few cubs, so I know how it is,” she smiled, as she watched Nick wrestle Finnick back into the seat. “It’s no trouble at all; I’m just grateful that you’re willing to talk with me further. I must admit, I was pleasantly surprised to hear back from you so quickly.”

“Well, I know the conditions are less than ideal here, but I thought now was as a good time as any to help a fellow fox out. And I’m grateful for the video—it provides evidence that my actions yesterday were justified.”

“Why do you need evidence? Are you getting in trouble at the department?” she said, apparently concerned.

 “No, just automatic cop-speak on my part. But tell you what—before you start your hard-hitting interview, would you like to get something from up front?”

 “Oh, um yeah, actually, I am a bit of a caffeine addict—“

“You and me, both. OK, we’ll just wait for you here, and I’m gonna see if I can’t _calm_ _down_ little Sammy here a bit.”

With a friendly flick of her tail she merged into the line in front of the counter. As soon as her muzzle turned away from them, Nick whipped around and glared at Finnick, who shrugged nonchalantly.

“Hey,” the little fox murmured, “needed to check that she was unarmed and not a cop. “But, man, she is a _fine_ female. When you screw this all up, I’m gonna need her number from you.”

            Nick barely had time to narrow his eyes in warning before a light musky scent wafted past his nose and he heard a chair scrapping the floor. He turned around and saw Fennel sitting down with a large latte entwined in her claws, along with her notepad and a plain, ordinary pen.

            Nick nodded toward the notepad, “kinda old-fashioned for a blogger? No recording pen or anything like that?”

            “Nope, if you record you have to end up replaying and retyping anyway. I taught myself shortpaw.”

            “Really?” Nick exclaimed. “I would have guessed that’s a dying art.”

            “It is, but I guess you can say I’m a hipster journalist. Also, I find that writing on a notepad is a lot less intimidating for someone than recording their voice.”

            “Yeah, I’ve been on the wrong end of a recording before.”

            Suddenly pen was in paw and Fennel was scribbling across the pad.

            “Yes, actually one reason I’ve been curious to talk to you is that there is very little background about you on the ZPD website. Or anywhere, actually. Lots of stuff on Judy Hopps. You know—,” she recited the facts in a bored singsong voice, “Country girl from Bunnyburrow. Valedictorian of her class. Heroine of the Nighthowler case--”

            “Sure, she’s been the official face of the ZPD for a few months, and she is the first bunny officer ever—“

            “But you’re the first fox police officer since time immemorial,” she said. “Maybe you don’t know how – _inspiring_ \- that is to us foxes, all of us foxes, in general. But as far as the ZPD website is concerned, you’re about as significant as a public safety campaign. By the way, I texted my sister that I met you, and she was so excited! She almost chewed my tail off that I didn’t get a photo of you. Would you mind, after we talk, if I took a selfie with you? It would also help justify to my parents why I’m choosing the career that I’m in…”

            Despite years of training keeping his face neutral, Nick felt his face betraying embarrassment and flattery. “Well, sure, of course, but it’s no big deal…”

            “No big deal! It almost seems deliberate, how little background has been released about you. Yet, you seemed to be so heavily involved in that Nighthowler case…”

            “I wasn’t involved as an officer then-“

            “Yes, and you weren’t featured at any of the press briefings or in any of the court records,” she continued, “but I’ve been able to wrangle some raw footage of the first conference after Lionheart’s arrest, and there you were way off to the side. In fact, you were wearing the same tasteful outfit you’re wearing now.”

            “I’m not hearing complete approval of my fashion choice,” Nick smiled.

            “Clearly, from what I’m wearing, I’m not one to judge.”

            “I think you look great,” he said. “Very professional,” he hastily added.   Finnick smacked his head on the tray. “But yes, I was a person of interest in the case, but that’s about it.”

            “It took a while, but the Zootopia transit authority eventually released footage of the subway explosion underneath the Natural History Museum. You were right in the thick of it all, jumping off the car with Officer Hopps just before the explosion. For some reason she even punched you after you showed her a suitcase.”

            “Punched me, punched me…” Nick crossed his eyes, thinking. “Oh yeah, actually she was happy with what I did. She actually hits you as a sign of affection. Can’t figure out whether it is a rabbit thing in general or just a Judy thing. She’s the only rabbit I’ve ever really spent extended time with.”

            “So you _were_ working with her on the case-“

            “Yeah, but I was just an unwilling sidekick—“

            “There was also some security footage from inside the museum that shows a few seconds of you carrying an injured Hopps away from former assistant mayor Bellweather. Not much else, but clearly you were not a sidekick there. But nothing’s mentioned about this in the press release announcing your hire. Really, nothing about your life before the ZPD at all.”

            “Look,” Nick said, raising his paws in surrender, “If you’re trying to make this all into some ZPD conspiracy to keep down foxes, that’s your business. But be sure to write this down.” He pointed a claw to her pad. “Any lack of publicity about my role in the ZPD occurred because of my request. I didn’t even want to attend this press event this morning. I’m just happy to be doing my job, and I’m happy with the way the ZPD has treated me and my privacy. There, got that all?”

            “Yes,” she said, somewhat abashed. “Sorry, I’m not trying to create a controversy where there is none. But I hope you understand that it’s a sore spot for me that you’re not getting more recognition for what you’ve done, when it would be so useful in fighting stereotypes-“.

            “No offense taken,” Nick grinned and leaned forward. “I understand why you would feel that way. But clearly the ZPD is not suppressing my activities—I mean, just look at this morning-- although honestly I almost wish they would. You see, there’s not a lot of background on my previous life because, frankly, I’m not proud of it. I wasn’t evil or anything, but just aimless, and definitely not inspiring to our species. But now I’m very happy to be part of something making a difference in people’s lives. And I sense that you want to be doing something similar with your blog. I’m glad that you’re getting publicity and recognition out of this because that region you live in frankly can use more attention.”

            She smiled in appreciation.

            “Now, are there some other questions you wanted to ask me?”

 

* * *

 

            “Ah, I see why you ran into trouble,” Peter said absently, staring at the screen. “When you enter a modifier to the command you need to put in a space afterward, and use single-quotes, not double quotes. Also, instead of ‘coyote’ you need to enter the scientific name as assigned by Lemmerus….”

            “You seem pretty comfortable with computers,” Judy said, resolutely ignoring the healthy sheen on his fur that even the weak florescent lights over the cubicle couldn’t hide.

            “Yeah, well, I was kind of a delinquent in high school, preferring to trespass in gardens, goofing around on video games, and so on. But I found I had a knack for programming, and I even worked a few years for Boaracle,” he said, tapping some new commands into the screen. “But although I was materially comfortable, it felt kinda hollow, you know? Didn’t feel I was making the world a better place.”

            “So you took a job as a programmer in the Hall of Records?” she asked, trying to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

            “That’s not the first time I’ve gotten that reaction,” he grinned, grabbing a celery stalk from the container next to him. “Want one?” he asked. After Judy shook her head, he continued, “Yeah, I figure that if you really want to change things, it’s all well and good to donate to charity, write your city council, pass some laws, and so on. But if you really want to improve the lives of hundreds of thousands of animals, if you really want to change civilization, change the way it handles--.”

 

* * *

 

“--Paperwork,” Nick said instantly to her next question. “No doubt, the amount of paperwork required is the biggest surprise I had when I joined the ZPD.” He glanced over at Finnick, who seemed to manage an annoyed look even when dozing. “I mean, everything we do has to be properly documented and handled so it could eventually stand up in court if it had to.”

            Fennel nodded, maintaining eye contact even has her paw shuttled back and forth across her pad. “How much time does paperwork take you?”

            “Depends on what happens during the day.   Even something as routine as traffic duty generates about a half-hour’s worth of forms to fill out. And just wait for the avalanche of forms that await you when something like yesterday happens-“ he groaned, covering his eyes with his paw. “Jeez, I’m not looking forward to returning to work to do that.” He paused. “What really impressed me is how carefully they keep track of tranquilizer gun shots or any other weapon discharges. Literally every time we fire that thing we have a special ‘Discharge of Weapon’ form to fill out. One time, right after I started regular patrols with Judy, I was in a side hall of the ZPD waiting for her, and I pulled out my tranq gun out of boredom and started looking at it, because I was curious about the thing, you know?   I accidently triggered it and sent a dart right into the portrait of some ZPD chief from a century ago. That zebra looks like he’s sporting an earring now, along with a handlebar mustache.”

            Fennel giggled a little into her paw. “What’d you do?”

            “Well, I started thinking about the paperwork involved. Along with the Discharge of Weapon, there would have been an Accidental Discharge of Weapon supplemental form, along with a ZPD Property Damage Form, and a Tranquilizer Inventory Form and a Request for Repair Form. Because it was fired within the confines of the ZPD, I probably would have had to make a presentation to the Internal Safety Committee. So I ended up not telling anyone, not even Carr … Officer Hopps, and as far as I know the dart is still sitting there in the hallway, giving a metrosexual vibe to a bygone portrait.”

            Fennel was laughing openly now. “Oh no! Aw, I love that story, but I’m not going to be able to post it, am I?”

            “Tell you what. If you can delay for a couple of days, so I can contritely file the right forms, you can go ahead and use that story. However,” he lifted a claw, “in return I have a favor to ask you, regarding something you said this morning--- ”

 

* * *

 

 

            “You’re the first animal I’ve ever met that actually defends bureaucracy,” Judy said, half-incredulously, half-admirably.

           “Well, yeah,” Peter said, clean white teeth flashing. “You know that this building used to hold clay tablets with records in clawiform symbols detailing the first taxes ever collected in Zootopia? Writing was invited not for poetry or novels, but for paperwork. They’re still finding ancient records stashed away in literal hidey-holds around here by some pack-rats. Natural History museum’s collection of Rhinogylfics all comes from here. Records have been and always will be the skeleton of our entire government.”

“You’re pretty passionate about data records,” Judy grinned.

“Darn tootin’. You have to be passionate about your work. I mean, why do a job you’re not passionate about?”

“I understand you perfectly”.

“Glad we share something in common. Now, as I was saying, a well-designed paperwork system makes complex teams possible, allows society to function, and..”

            With a satisfied click of his tongue he turned the monitor toward Judy. “—allows public officials to search data for patterns to help bring justice to victimized animals.” He paused. “I least that’s what I think you’re doing. That’s the reason Fennel always gave when she was coming by here, at least. That girl really has an instinct for how to hunt a paper trail.”

            “Yes, she seems pretty single-minded when she has a goal in mind,” Judy said dryly, scanning the screen. “There seem to be a lot of coyote entries here. Can we restrict to those named Waters?”

            “Yep.” But the resulting records still filled hundreds of lines.

            “Tell you what,” Peter said. “The Lynux operating system lets you put in a ‘d’ flag to find changes in records over time. How about I do a search for changes in addresses over, I dunno, the last six months?”

            “Good idea!” Judy smiled.

            “And… done,” Peter mumbled. He raised an eyebrow at the screen. “Odd…”

            “There’s still a lot of records,” Judy said questioningly.

            “Three hundred and twenty-three, to be exact,” Peter muttered. “Odd, nearly a third of the coyotes in our database have registered an address change over the past three months. And that’s just the computerized records. There are probably still some forms that haven’t even been entered in the system yet.” He pressed an amber button next to his pneumatic tube, which began flashing. A field mouse drifting by overhead saw the flash, and moments later it sat fidgeting on the desk, cleaning its whiskers.

            Peter was filling out a requisition form. “Please take this to Data Entry and have this assign a P-1 Priority status to these blocks of forms.” Although the rabbit scribbled the form as small as possible, the little mouse looked like he was holding a spear as he jumped back into the airflow carrying the rolled-up form. Judy thought she heard a small squeal of delight as the little rodent floated up the tube and then though the sidewall.

            “I guess email would have been a few minutes faster,” said Peter, “but the Rodent Union insisted on keeping the tube system in place and putting a quota on emails.” He shrugged. “They really love that thing.”

 

* * *

 

 

            Nick let his comment linger in the air, closely watching the vixen across the table. Fennel put down her pen and sipped her latte, watching him expectedly.

            “What favor?” she said.

            “I did have an ulterior motive in contacting you”, said Nick.

            “Really?” she asked, more a statement than a question, and leaned forward slightly, ears perked.

            “Yeah,” he hastened to add. “I hope you don’t mind, but I wanted to ask you some further questions about your visit to the coyote family.”

            There was a slight dipping of her ears, but they perked up again almost immediately. “The Waters? So you and Officer Hopps are interested in them? Isn’t your partner going to get annoyed with you, since she definitely shut down my questioning about it this morning?”

            Nick raised his paws, as if trying to shield his chest from the patter of questions raining down on him.

            “Well, they may be of interest to the case, and part of the reason I wanted to meet you alone is that I got a sense you might have something more to say if –my partner—wasn’t around.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “You actually got close to the Waters and talked to them, either at the doorway, or perhaps even inside the apartment. You mentioned what the mother said. You said nothing about how she ---smelled.”

            Instinctively, Fennel flicked her eyes around the café. Nick leaned forward.

            “Yeah,” he said quietly. “It looks like both of us were taught to keep our nostrils open and our mouths shut. Foxes and wolves have really keen senses of smell, but it’s something we’ve learned to hide from –“ he considered his words carefully “—other species. Makes them uncomfortable, and we don’t need life to get any more difficult for us, do we?”

            Fennel moved in her seat uncomfortably. “I don’t mean to pry, but why do you want to bring this up when your partner’s not around? Doesn’t she know about this?”

            “As you might imagine, it’s difficult to break old habits, even with your work partner,” he said simply. “And the longer I wait to tell her, the harder it gets to admit it. Especially when you can pick up moods and subtle emotions with your nose. Of course, it doesn’t work, at least for me, in crowds or places with strong scents--”

            “Like coffeehouses,” she said, with only a faint trace of sarcasm.

            “Yes,” he grinned back. “Like here, I can only smell a blur of animals and a lot of roasting coffee. But I wonder, and I even suspect, that when you were standing in front of that coyote mother in an empty hallway, you might have picked up something that you’ve been keeping to yourself…”

            Fennel sighed. “You know it is more than an impression than any real solid evidence, right?”

            Nick nodded, “So I perfectly understand why you wouldn’t volunteer it, especially to cops on duty. But here I am now, off-duty, admiring what deductive skills you’ve already shown in hunting down health code violations and my mysterious and alluring past. So now, just fox-to-fox, is there something you’re willing to share, off-the-record?”

            Fennel sat silently, interested in the interior contents of her cup. She suddenly appeared tired and worn-down.   Nick guiltily glanced away from her and saw that Finnick looking at her as well, an unreadable expression in his baby eyes. The small fox then flicked an accusing expression back at Nick, which didn’t help with his guilt.

            “Off-the-record?” she repeated, quietly.

            “Scouts honor,” he automatically replied, internally wincing.

            She now looked up, slightly amused and possibly relieved. “Junior Ranger Scouts? Really?”

            “Long story.” He smiled patiently.

            She sighed. “She let me into the entrance hallway of the apartment. As I said earlier, they had only been in there a week.”

            ‘They?”

            “The woman Sage, her son Laughing Water, and the cub—oh I forget his name—“.

            “Sorry. Go on.”

            “But I did detect … _something._ It’s actually a scent I’ve never really detected before, and I was a little distracted talking to her, trying to place it. You know how when an animal is stressed they sometimes give off a bit of a sour aroma?” Nick nodded. “Well, at first I thought it was stress, but it was too, um, _metallic_ a taste. So sour and metallic. And I realized it smelled like blood. Not actual blood. But blood-like. And then it hit me all of the sudden. It wasn’t stress. It was fear. No, fear doesn’t cut it. It was—“ she looked him in the eyes. “Terror. Terror for herself and her kits. Like she was ready to flee an unseen predator at any moment. The poor woman was scared out of her mind. I left soon after, seeing that there was no way she was going to trust me, and personally I think she was too scared to think straight anyway.”

            Nick sat silently for a few moments. “And you haven’t told this to anyone?”

            “What would I say? Like you yourself said, we don’t like to talk about it, it’s embarrassing to admit, and you know that smell is not admissible as legal evidence—it’s just an impression and not always accurate. You think the police would have taken me seriously?”

            Nick wanted to say something otherwise, but all he could do was shake his head in sympathy.

            Fennel was back staring at the table. “It was disturbing, really. Not just the mother, but to pick up terror from the kit, I mean, coyotes are not too far away from foxes, after all….” She came to, and straightened up stiffly and awkwardly in her seat. “So, yes, that’s all I know”.

            Nick’s phone vibrated, and he glimpsed that Judy had left a text message.

Glancing at the phone, Fennel said, “I’m guessing that you probably have to go somewhere soon to drop off your little one—Sam right?—so I should be going as well.”

            “So you’ve asked all your questions you wanted to ask me?”

            “Yes, I feel like I’ve asked enough,” she said, not making eye contact. She looked forlorn, and he heard himself saying, “That’s too bad.” Her ear twitched and she looked up curiously. “At the very least, would you like to take a picture for your sister?”

            “Oh, yes, yes, of course,” she said, standing up. She hesitated. “Mind if we take it together?”

            “Certainly,” he said gallantly. He glanced around and saw a porcupine carefully standing in a corner, sipping on a Frappuccino. “Excuse me sir—“, the porcupine jerked his head up suspiciously at the fox--“would you mind taking a photo of us together?”

            After a brief hesitation, the porcupine smiled guiltily and apologetically as he grabbed the phone. “Sure”.

            Nick stood by the child seat and Fennel swung next to his side. He put his arm around her shoulder and grinned, willing himself to ignore her scent that flooded his nose, a pleasant smell that brought to mind warm dens and open meadows in spring. He gritted his teeth a moment before opening his face into a broad smile.

            “A little closer, maybe?” said the porcupine.

            He felt her hip press against his side. He heard her take a deep breath in through her nose, and then stiffen in surprise.

            “Smile!” said their photographer, and he heard an old-fashioned shutter sound click.   Not surprising, given her antique tastes. He grinned to himself. Maybe I’m another antique.

            “Thank you,” she smiled graciously, taking the phone from the porcupine. She then turned around, smiling brightly, ears erect, and definitely forlorn no longer. “And thank you, Officer Wilde, again for meeting me.” She winked at him. “I get the sense I may be a –what do you call it—‘person of interest’ in this case. So perhaps I’ll hear from you in the future. If so, do you mind if we continue this interview? I feel there is a lot that we haven’t covered about what your day-to-day life is like, and I promise you that a lot of foxes would find that interesting…”

            “I’m very sure you’ll be hearing from me, I mean both Judy and me, in the future, and yes, I look forward to being grilled by you again, Fennel,” he said, grinning mischievously.

            The vixen ruffled Finnick’s scruff affectionately, “Be a good cub now, O.K.? “ She looked crosswise at Nick. “Good luck surviving your cubsitting. At least it’s not as scary as climbing a burning building, right?”

            “Frankly, I haven’t decided yet which is scarier,” he quipped modestly.

            Smiling, she turned around and walked out, a spring in her step, looking very—Judyish. Yes, thought Nick, Judyish is a good word for her.

            He turned toward Finnick, whose mood seemed to have soured as much as Fennel’s had improved.

            “So, whatdaya think?”

            “Well, I think that you’re an idiot.”

            “I may have to get a second opinion on that.”

            “Fine, you were a jerk to that nice girl too.”

            “I take it you don’t think she’s trying to play me.”

            “If she’s hustling then she’s got to be the best in the business. Man, I could _smell_ her attraction to you from over here, even next to that damn cappuccino. Gimme that back, by the way.” He told a deep sip from the now lukewarm brew. “Man, that is one fine-looking girl. Sweet personality too. Only thing I can see wrong about her is that for some weird reason she’s into you.”

“Well, it’s a bit strange that she was at the fire and filmed me yesterday.”

           “Well, she’s a groupie then. Go ahead and let her fangirl you man! Actually, never mind. Keep going the way you’re going. That way, she’ll run crying on my shoulder in no time. She’s got the mother instinct, I can just tell.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’ll find a grown fox impersonating a cub a real turn-on.”

“But what’s your hangup, man? It was almost like you were trying to shut her down at first. Poor thing was nearly crushed at the end. But then suddenly you’re all ‘Take a picture with me,’ and man she musta smelled something off of you to improve her mood so much.”

He strained against the tray table, sniffing in Nick’s direction. Nick unconsciously stepped back a couple of paces.

“Just feeling a bit sorry for her.”

“I don’t know how you survived hustling all those years with that sappy heart of yours.” He grabbed the tray table and struggled to unlatch it. “No wonder you’ve never had luck with women in the past, you send such goddamned mixed signals”.

“Funny, that’s the second time today I’ve been lectured about my love life,” growled Nick.

“Talked to your Mom finally?”

“No, Judy.”

“Always knew that rabbit was smarter than you are. Now lemme out.”

Nick glanced at a non-existent watch. “Well, what do you know? It looks like we’re now at a different time-“

He then gave the chair a small kick, and it slid a few feet away along the floor.

“-and now we’re at a different place. So now let’s talk about yesterday morning.”

“OK, now you’re a backstabbing asshole,” growled the little fox, attracting bemused glances from several patrons sitting nearby. “Let me out or I’m going to make a scene.”

“Sure, buddy, go ahead and make a scene. Go ahead and blow your most effective _modus_ _operandi_ ”.

Finnick stopped struggling and sat, glowering, arms crossed. The two foxes stared daggers at each other, until the other patrons focused their attention elsewhere.

“That’s better”, said Nick. “Yeah, I really do need to talk to you about that little hint you dropped the other day, the one that led into a burning building and nearly killed me and my partner. And yes, that hint probably saved the lives of dozens of animals. Don’t think I’m not aware of that. But to outside eyes, accurately predicting arson doesn’t really make you look innocent, does it? And you know it. That’s why I’ve resorted to lowlife trickery to get you here. And I admit right up front that Bogo, my boss, is all up my tail about who you are and is threatening me to bring you in. I’m trying not to, really, but you’re going to have to help me not to do it.”

“Looks like the ZPD has you good and muzzled now”.

Anger flashed briefly in the fox’s eyes, then he leaned back into a confident grin. “Yeah, you know my buttons, all right. But baiting me ain’t going to work here. We know each other far too well. In fact, you know a lot about me and my past, including the time I lived with Sagebrush Water.”

 


	7. Finnick goes Savage

 

Finnick’s ear flickered slightly, enough to catch Nick’s attention.

“Seems kinda odd that you would give me a tip about a building, and then I find an ex-girlfriend in it, so I can’t help thinking that Sage is somehow mixed up in this, and that you know something about it.” He leaned forward. “Yeah, I admit, I knew a pretty girl is something you can’t resist, and I was a little underhanded bringing you here, and so here we are. But don’t get pissy on me. Of course I don’t want to bring you in; look, I’ve even kept my partner out of this meeting. But you need to help me out here, Finnick, give me something so that I can get you off the hook. Bogo, my boss, is more interested in the information than in whoever is giving it. He may let me keep you anonymous from the department if you let me know how you knew about the arson. You still keep in touch with Sage?”

“I don’t hear a promise or any guarantees.”

“I’m not going to lie to you. I can’t guarantee that you won’t eventually have to make a statement. But if I can move the focus of the case elsewhere, pick up a lead somewhere, I might get you out of the picture. All I can promise is that I’ll try.”

Finnick raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. Nick let the seconds stretch out. Finally, his prisoner slumped back in his chair. “You may have a badge, Nick, but you’re still nothing but a low-life hustler.”

Nick pressed his paw to his heart. “Slings and arrows, sticks and stones, my friend. Now again, is Sage the reason behind your tip?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she is. I kept in touch with her after you stopped sleeping with her.”

“Never slept with her.”

“Went far enough. Enough for you two to--.”

“Look, we liked each other enough, and I liked hanging out in the Nocturnal District, but her family and friends hated me because I wasn’t a coyote, and she was a little too much into those mushrooms for my taste.”

“Always were a Scout when it came to drugs and dames,” sighed Finnick.

“Anyway, long story short, it didn’t end well, and we dropped all contact several years ago. Felt bad about it, cause I liked her little kid Laughing Water. Knew he was going to have a rough life. But she changed her number, disappeared from the Nocturnal District, and you know,“ Nick raised his hands in air, “life moves on. But now I find that you somehow kept in contact with her, and never told me. Why’d you keep in touch?”

“Cause all women want to keep in touch with me,” smirked the small fox. “And cause she wasn’t above selling her benefits to the highest bidder, and I helped her a bit wid’dat.   Every couple of years or so I’d hear from her and set her up with a buyer. Got the feeling that that ‘shroom habit was getting the best of her.”

“And you did nothing about it, and never told me about it.”

“Not my business,” grumbled Finnick, “and was no longer your business. ‘Sides, she told me not to.”

“Yet something’s changed your mind, otherwise you wouldn’t have passed on the hint to me.”

“Well, two weeks ago she called me and told me her brother, Wiley, has gotten into some trouble. Some deep trouble. He’s always trying some wild crazy scheme that blows up in his face. Thinks he’s some sort of genius or something.”

“Brother live with them?”

“Nah, but she said he warned her they might try to take it out on family. I guess she knew enough to panic and move into a new place. She called me from that apartment.”

            “She say anything about who his brother was scared of, or what they would do?”

            “Nope. But two nights ago she called again and said she had had another warning from Wiley to move. Guess she didn’t get around to moving fast enough.”

            “Why didn’t she call the police?”

            “Wow, you’ve really forgotten what our lives are like? Already? What do you think customer service is like for drug-addict coyotes calling about vague, nonspecific threats?”

            Nick set his jaw grimly. “Why didn’t she just try to contact me?”

            “No clue. That’s something you’re going to have to find out on your own, ex-partner. Now, get me out of here.”

            “Can I have a promise you’re not going to leave the city for the time being, in case I need to talk with you again?”

            “If you’re not making any promises, I’m not making any promises. I’m done here. Well, except for that dame Fennel.   Using her to get to me was pretty low, man. She’s the one being played, not you.”

            “Judy said the same thing, but I’m not being the evil manipulative jerk here. She’s a person of interest in the arson, and my instincts tell me I need to keep things professional.”

            “Yeah, sure, did your instincts also tell you to take a selfie with her, so she could smell your attraction to her? You know, I should make it up to her, since you don’t seem to have the guts to decide one way or another”.

            “Yeah, go right ahead. It’ll keep you in town.”

            “You laugh, but I wonder… what if, hypothetically, I told her that you arranged this date just to catch me? That you weren’t telling her the whole truth about this meeting?”

            “Why in the world would you tell her that?”

            “It’s called a hustle, sweetheart. How much is it worth for me to keep quiet? Your heart ready for her adoring gaze to turn sour on you?”

            Nick removed the tray table and politely gestured for his guest to descend, which Finnick did. The small fox ambled along the floor for a few feet, then turned around and pulled out his phone and held it in the air.

            “All I have to do is send a single text message to Fennel, and she knows everything. I’ll probably lose my chance with her, yeah, but hey I’ve got a line of dames anyway pining away for my voice. Common, cough up $100 for me.”

            “Not playing the game, Finnick. Trying not to bring you in, remember?”

            Finnick’s other arm went up, holding Fennel’s contact card.

            Nick grabbed at his shirt pocket, only to find it empty. “How’d you-“

            Wordlessly, the small fox spun around and began marching out the door, still holding both phone and contact card in the air. He was about ten feet from the exit when—

            “Wait.” Said Nick. The fox kept marching.

            “WAIT.”

            Finnick froze, and Nick strode up to him and shoved a several twenties down his tie-die shirt. “You little blackmailer.”

            “Sticks and stones, buddy,” grinned Finnick. “Sticks and stones. Just getting paid for you wasting my time. Also, just reminding you who the padawan is when it comes to hustlin’”.

Nick’s phone vibrated again. “It’s Carrots,” he said. “Gotta take this. Thanks again for helping out. I’ll do my best to keep you out of this from now on.” He strolled out the door, walked down the sidewalk several feet away from the entrance, and answered the phone. “Hey, Carrots”.

            “Hey, Slick, hope I’m not interrupting the date.”

            “Hardy-har, fluff. I got your message during the interview, but she’s taken off. I’ve just left Finnick too. What’s up?”

            “Well, I’m at the Hall of Records here with Peter-”

            “The person Fennel recommended?”

            “The very one!!” chirped Judy, causing Nick to raise an eyebrow momentarily. “And he’s been a _wonderful_ help, but we can’t seem to find the latest address for Ms. Waters.   Turns out that a lot of coyotes have changed addresses the past few months and the computer systems haven’t been updated quite yet.”

            “Is that unusual, that many animals moving?”

            “I was wondering the same thing, and Peter kindly went back seven years to check. No, something unusual has been going on. Can’t say what kind of unusual—“

            “—but your tail is starting to tingle with suspicion.”

            “Yeah, yeah it is.” A pause. “Anything you want to tell me on your end?”

            “I’ll fill you in privately, but yeah it looks like the arson may be related to the coyotes.”

            “Learn anything about how we might find the mother? Did Finnick know anything?”

            Nick hesitated for a few seconds.

            “Have your friend at records search for someone with last name MoonShadow. Lives or used to live in the Meadowlands, I think.”

            “Who is that?”

            “Her mother-in-law. Sage’s mother is dead.”

            “Why doesn’t she have the same last name as her mother-in-law?”

            “Rabbits are pretty quick when it comes to family relationships, aren’t they?”

            “You’ve got no inkling, fox.”

            “Turns out, coyote females keep their mother’s name instead adopting their mate’s name—“

            “You mean they’re matrilineal?”

            “If you say so, Professor. Is genealogy a required class in Bunnyburrow or something?”

            “So Finnick thinks the mother and her cubs might be hiding with her mother-in-law?”

            “Are there many Moonshadows in the system?”

            Seconds ticked by, and Nick pivoted around, facing back toward the coffee shop doorway. His tail stiffened in surprise when he saw Finnick standing five feet away from him, his large ears swiveled at full attention towards Nick. Unconsciously Nick cupped one paw over the earpiece.

            “Yeah, there are a few. Not as common as Waters, but… and yes, there’s only one in the Meadowlands. Watercress Moonshadow! Age seems about right too!”

            “Great.”

            “We should move on this. Meet you back at the ZPD in about an hour and we’ll swing by this evening? Not sure how much longer Bogo is going to let us loose.”

            Smirking slightly, Finnick started to approach Nick.

            “You’re not going to let me sleep on this, are you?”

            “Trails afoot, Officer Wilde! Can’t let the scent go cold, right?”

            “What’s with all the tracking metaphors all of the sudden?”

            “OK, I’ll try to upload some pictures of Sage and her kids so we can recognize them.   See you soon! Oh, say hi and thank Finnick for me!”

            The fox hung up the phone and looked down at his short friend, now standing in front of him.

            “She says hi.”

“She doesn’t know, does she?” grinned Finnick.

“Huh”?

“Judy. She doesn’t know about you and your ex. That’s why she thanked me. She thought I knew the grandmother”. He scratched his chin. “Earlier you told me you deliberately didn’t bring your partner here. Now I’m wondering if there is more than one reason why.”

A slow, crazy grin started erupting from his face.

“Sooooo…. I wonder what your bunny partner would say when she finds out you nearly killed her to save your ex-girlfriend’s kid? Your kid?”

Nick shook his head.

“But you still haven’t told her about the ex?”

Nick rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t sure it was Sage until now—Waters is a fairly common coyote name”.

“Yeah, I’m real sure Zootopia’s full of Sage Waters.”

“Anyway, all that matters to Judy Hopps is that we saved lives and made the world a better place. The fact that I can say that without rolling my eyes tells you all you need to know about her. What you see is what you get. She’s not going to care one way or the other when I tell her about this.”

“Interesting, though, that you didn’t even mention that you knew Sage, even after you were sure it was her,” Finnick mused. “Even I know that’s –whadya call it—withholding evidence? Now why wouldn’t you share what is clearly an important piece of information with her? Hmm… Oh my, could it be that you’re worried how your innocent naïve country girl would react to knowing that you were once in an _interspecies_ _relationship_?”

Nick shrugged. “Coyotes are kissing cousins, basically.”

“Still different species … _mingling together_.” Finnick was looking gleeful now, studying Nick’s carefully neutral expression. “So … _deviant_. That piece of news would probably blow some fluff off her tail. But why should you care what she thinks about it?” He furrowed his brow.   “Oh wait!” He looked almost dementedly happy now, “Could it be that despite denials to the contrary, our modest ex-con fox actually _likes_ being the hero, likes being looked up too, likes –“ he clasped his hands together and touched his cheek, batting his eyelashes-- “having _her_ large, purple eyes staring _admiringly_ up at you. Will she ever look at you the same way if she knows what you’ve dabbled in in your past? Not just the interspecies relationship, _unseemly_ as that is, of course, but just imagine what she’d think of you if she also knew ---”

“You were there when I first met Judy,” Nick said, “she knows what I was, and what I am now. My past is behind me.”

“Yes, your _aimless_ , and _definitely not inspiring to our species_ life you led with _me”_ , Finnick growled. “I heard what you told Fennel. Thanks a lot, _pendajo_. Thanks for letting me know what our friendship really meant to you. I think I owe you for that one too.”

“You know I was just trying to get Fennel off my back—“

“The past is never just in the past. The past makes the present, and could very well be the future. You’ve got too much past, Wilde; it’s going to surface one way or the other and bite you. She’s going to find out eventually, and hiding it is only going to make it worse. You know, I’d be doing you a favor if I let her know, wouldn’t I?”

“If she does find out—I mean, when she does, she’ll accept who I am, and not what I was,” Nick said, fighting the quaver from his voice. “That’s what friends do. Friends do not try to blackmail each other for money.”

“Friendsssssss…” hissed Finnick, testing out the word. “Is that what we are? I thought so, but I also once thought friends don’t have to resort to trickery to ask for help, did they? You know, I keep finding soft dirt to dig into here. Let’s dig a little deeper. It occurs to me that you _never_ meet me with your rabbit _friend_ around, even though you know I don’t mind her. Actually always kind of liked her spirit. I wonder … what you would smell like if she were standing next to you. Maybe even if you were just _thinking_ of her. Whadda say, Nickkie? Wanna make a bet?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Maybe you’ve noticed that she has long ears and a cottontail? Eats disgusting food?”

“Interspecies romance hasn’t stopped you before, clearly.”

“And besides, you of all animals should know my taste in ladies. She’s too much of a straight shooter to interest me. As you love to keep reminding me, I tend to go for the disreputable types. I’m not _that_ much of a Ranger Scout.”

“I hear a lot of talking, Wilde, but not a lotta convincing. I wonder--are you the kind of pred that likes to play with your food before you eat it?”

Without a word, Nick shook his head, nonchalantly raised his hand in farewell, and started sauntering down the street.

Finnick ostentatiously started sniffing the air. “I’m downwind, _buddy_. Let me just say the name. Officer Hopps. Hopps. _Judy Hopps._ Soft gray fur. Long black-tipped ears. Fluffy tail. _”_

Nick kept walking away.

“Violet eyes. Soft smile. Kind heart. Fierce soul. Best … _friend._ ”

Nick may or may not have stumbled a moment, and kept walking.

Finnick frowned, then raised his phone and cupped his paw to his muzzle. “$200 bucks, buddy. $200 right now or I text your ‘ _friend’_ about Sagebrush and you. I’d be doing you a favor. If you don’t tell her _everything_ , I’m gonna laugh when it all blows up in your face.”

Nick kept walking down the street. Kept walking. Finnick stood still, holding his phone in the air.

Just before turning the corner, Nick paused. He looked over his shoulder.

Finnick waggled the phone.

The fox sighed, pulled out his wallet, dropped several bills into a dumpster next to him, saluted his friend with his middle claw, and kept walking.

Turning the corner, he heard Finnick’s triumphant laughter fading away.

* * *

 

The early evening sunlight slanted gently through the ZPD lobby, highlighting the little flecks of dust that swirled languidly through the enormous cavern-like space, mimicking the random-seeming movements of the animals below. Judy leaned against the receptionist desk at ZPD headquarters, taking advantage of the precinct wi-fi hotspot while waiting for Wilde. Clawhauser, meanwhile, chatted away with a confused-looking giraffe from his perch behind the desk. For some reason the wireless connection was best around the cheetah’s domain, and Judy doubted that was a coincidence, given the data workout the receptionist gave his smartphone every day.

After finishing her visit with Peter, Judy had felt an urge to go home and spruce up a bit. Now she was dressed in full field uniform, her neoprene suit, harness, and kneepads all in place, alert and eager to start the evening, as if she had just woken up. While waiting for Wilde, she was downloading an app that Peter had recommended to her.

“The Records app, frankly, kinda sucks,” he had said, “but it’s a convenient way for me to deliver the rest of the data to you when it’s ready. Turns out that’s gonna take a little longer than I thought. Had to file a formal request. Which is a good thing, by the way!” He had also typed in his personal mobile number “in case any questions came up.” She had let him. As she watched the waitbar fill up on her phone, she regretted that she had met the young programmer through Fennel. She just couldn’t avoid the feeling of being manipulated, a feeling that considerably dampened any temptation to indulge her instincts regarding her new “professional” contact.

“Hey, Judy, the official press photos from this morning are now on the ZPD Furbook page!”

Ben, having dispatched the giraffe in the appropriate direction down the ZPD labyrinth, was now holding up his phone towards Judy. She politely took it from him, although she wasn’t enthusiastic to see proof of how uncomfortable she had been up on that stage.   The photo showed Nick and Judy centered in the middle of a cluster of coyotes, including Dancing Shadow, with Bogo and Lionheart flanking the group on either side. Bogo’s expression was –unsurprisingly—annoyed, while Lionheart looked as thrilled as if he had stumbled across some long-lost pride members. She squinted at a couple of the elder coyotes. Perhaps her imagination was kicking into overdrive after this morning’s history discussion with Nick, but it sure looked like one of the elders was looking down at Judy instead of the camera, and was half a second away from smacking his lips.

“Not a bad shot of you, girl. Looks like you’re getting comfortable with being the Face of the ZPD, huh?”

She hated that title, but she did admit that she was hiding her nervousness well, after that awkward moment she had had with the Bitter Water tribe. Nick’s paw was resting gently on her shoulder. Her gaze shifted from the paw, up his arm, and lingered over his face. His expression was intriguing. Normally he had an automatic devil-my-care face that he could slip on unthinkingly for photos, but here, his expression almost seemed a little---“

“Nice trapeze act you had going with Wilde the other day.”

She glanced up and smiled at McHorn and Francine, who were ambling past her, ready to clock out of their shift. “Thanks, guys,” she said.

“Yeah,” Francine added, looking down at the photo. “When are you guys going to join the circus?”

“Once Wilde decides whether he wants to be the acrobat or the clown.”

“That’d be a tough call,” Francine agreed. She rubbed her trunk, pretending to contemplate the choice. “Though my old boyfriend would probably assign both of you to parade cleanup.”

“Let me guess—he’s with the fire department?”

“Yep, he is, and to tell you a little secret, I would _not_ try selling Bunny Scout cookies to that crowd right now. I think this next ZPD/ZFD charity ball game is gonna be interesting.”

McHorn stood smiling politely, but somewhat stiffly and distractedly. “Gotta go; see ya later partner,” he said abruptly, “keep it up, Hopps.” He then wandered off toward the exit, absently scratching a spot on the base of his neck. Judy watched the rhino leave, feeling her ears rise up in curiosity.

“Poor guy,” Francine whispered to the two remaining mammals. For an elephant, a “whisper” created enough of a breeze to ruffle Judy’s fur. “He just learned today that his brother-in-law passed away.”

“Oh no! Sickness?”

“No, actually, some kind of auto or traffic accident, I think.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that! We should at least get a card for him!”

“Yeah, I agree,” Francine nodded, “but since he’s my partner I’ll take care of it and pass it around the bullpen tomorrow. Speaking of which, are you going to be back on duty tomorrow?”

“Well, we actually haven’t gotten any specific orders from Chief yet, but I’m planning to check in tomorrow, yeah.”

“OK,” Francine nodded, “see you then!” She waved a farewell, and almost bumped into Nick as he hurried through the entrance doors.

“I think you’d make a good clown,” the elephant chortled, as she exited through the same doors.

Nick stared momentarily at the retreating figure, then turned to approach Judy. His expression, like the one in the photo, seemed a little –she couldn’t find the word.

“Evening, Wilde,” said Clawhauser. “You know, it’s traditional for highly-decorated officers to share their good fortune with the rest of the precinct.   So where’s the donuts? You’re usually my most reliable briber.”

“Sorry, Ben,” huffed Wilde, “but I got cleaned out of cash this afternoon.”

“Exactly what were you doing on this date?” Judy asked, ears swiveling toward him.

“Turns out limousine rides and champagne bottles really start adding up,” he quipped.

“Did you just say date?” Ben purred.

“In fact,” Nick said, ignoring the cheetah, “I’m gonna have to ask you to buy the coffee that I’m gonna need once we hit the road.” Distracted. That was the word. He looked distracted.   Although he was still dressed in his formal uniform from this morning’s ceremony, he was starting to look a little dishelved, with wrinkles appearing on the pockets and a ruffled collar. That reminded her—

“Did Bogo mention anything to you about us?” she asked Clawhauser.

“Nope, he’s been out all afternoon. He mentioned something about that ‘darn boot-licking ceremony’ throwing him off all day,” he said in his best mimicry of Bogo’s bass tone. “But nothing about you two, as far as I remember.”

Judy doubted that they would be left alone much longer. “You want to change into something less dressy, Wilde?”

“But it looks so good on him,” chuckled Clawhouser. “Good choice to wear on a … date. By the way, I’m gonna need details…”

“I don’t have anything here to change into—my other uniform is still at the dry cleaners. Anyway, can’t hurt to look official when making a house call in the neighborhood we’re heading to. Ready to get this over with?”

“I’ve been ready. Let’s go!” she enthused, shoving her phone in one of the pockets of her utility belt. “Got your inventory together? Badge, radio, tranq gun, cuffs—“

“Oh yeah,” Nick said, “that reminds me. Ben, you happen to have another Accidental Discharge form back there?

Despite his carefree persona, Clawhauser was actually an extremely efficient officer when it came to paperwork, and had built up quite a stash of frequently-used forms underneath at his station. Like a magician pulling a card out of his sleeve, he whipped out a yellow form and slipped it to Wilde.

“I’ll need a Request for Repair too—“

“I _knew_ you were the one that stuck the tranq dart in that old ZPD portrait,” Judy beamed.

Nick raised his paws in supplication to the ceiling.

“Do I win the pool?” Judy asked, turning to the receptionist.

“Let’s see,” he murmured, opening a drawer by his knee and pulling out a manila folder. “Which one?”

“The one guessing who stuck the tranq dart in the portrait in the south hallway.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” grumbled Nick.

“I was pretty sure you did it, but figured you’d tell me in your own time,” she said simply, tenting her eyebrows in puzzlement when Nick momentarily looked discomforted.

“Yeah, you got it,” Ben laughed. “But Nick, we still have one going on how long it takes before Bogo notices the portrait and has it fixed. You want in?”

“Maybe later. You’ve got quite the bookie operation going here,” Nick whistled, doing a quick chin-up on the desk and looking down at the drawer. “Looks like you have a pretty big pool on something going on there.”

“Oh, nothing that important,” the receptionist said cagily, closing the folder over another set of pages plastered with names and three-digit numbers. He shoved the drawer shut with his right knee.

“Almost forgot,” Judy said. She grabbed a printout off the counter and handed it to Nick. “Printed this out at Records. Registration photo for Sagebrush Water.”

Nick stared down at the passport-style photo of the coyote they had been discussing all day, while Judy watched him. She saw his shoulders sag slightly and his tail slump. Judy agreed that the photo was depressing. The age listed on the form was early thirties, but the haggard expression staring back at Nick looked fifty. Gray or missing patches of fur riddled her face, and her eyes were flat, dark pools that seemed to reveal no inner light. It was a face of someone who had had a rough life, and had no expectations of anything changing. Nick handed her back the photo, but remaining staring thoughtfully at the space where the photo had been. While trying to mask it, he was clearly moved and disturbed by the photo, and that fact moved and warmed her. Cynical mouth, big heart. Gently she placed her paw on his wrist and started him out of his reverie. With a silent nod they both turned toward the door.

“Night, Ben,” they waved.

“Night guys, and good luck with your assignment. And Wilde, remember about tomorrow—you owe me donuts and a little more intel about this –date.”

“Nothing to get the rumor mill excited about,” said Nick. “Got the keys, Carrots?” She jingled the keys in reply, as they plunged together into the fading light.

 

 

 

 


	8. The Moon and the Sun

 

She loved this part of the job best.

True, she loved the camaraderie of the bullpen, the people-watching on patrol, the smiles and trust of young children, and the careful analysis of clues. Heck, even paperwork had its charms when you had someone nearby to complain with. But the nine-year old curled up inside her would start jumping up and down when the time came to get in a large vehicle and plunge into the city, with no idea whether you would find what you were seeking. Fishers must feel the same thing, when their boat leaves safe harbor and surges into unknown waters, not knowing whether they were going to haul in a fortune or just another failure.

            Judy leaned over the wheel of the cruiser as they entered the Meadowlands. Actually, they had been blending into the Meadowlands for some time. Unlike the other districts, there were no physical landmarks, sea shore, or other topography to define the Meadowlands. But at some point as you drove north you suddenly realized that land was no longer a precious resource: parking garages disappeared and were replaced by parking lots, buildings comfortably sprawled across the landscape like a fat hippo abandoning its diet, and apartment complexes became nondescript as contractors built them as fast and cheaply as possible. Meadowlands: the relief valve for housing prices, favorite destination for the poor and cash-strapped.

            And somewhere in this landscape was their goal—a small coyote family that could provide either nothing or everything. She flexed her paws in excitement.

Nick seemed to have a heightened anticipation too, fidgeting in his seat, glancing constantly out the side window, clutching his latest paper coffee cup. In any other mammal she would have taken these tics as signs of nervousness, but this was Slick Nick she was looking at, nonchalance personified, so his rubbing his arms could only be a sign of his excitement too. Although… she was finding him extra hard to read tonight, especially since his face was shrouded by darkness, except for the occasional slanted beam of moonlight that glowed through the windows as the car twisted around various curves. Wearing his sunglasses in the darkness was not exactly helpful either. He had been uncharacteristically terse about his meeting with Fennel Glendale earlier that day, so much so that she had given up trying to tease him about it. Time to probe a little deeper.

            “So, this coyote, Sage Water, she actually told Fennel about her brother Wiley?”

            “No,” Nick said. “Fennel just sensed that the family was in trouble when she visited them. It was only after she left the coffee house that I got Finnick to admit that he had been talking to Sage. He was the one that mentioned her brother.”

            “He give any reason what trouble the brother was in?”

            “None.”

            “Too bad I didn’t hear that name when I was at the Hall of Records,” she said. “I could have had Peter try to look him up.” She glanced down at her smartphone on the seat beside her. “When I try out this new app he wrote, that’ll be the first thing I check out.”

            “Sounds like a helpful guy,” Nick said absently. Since he was looking out the window, he missed Judy’s slight blush.

            “Yeah, he caught the fact that a large number of coyotes seem to be relocating, so I’m not putting high hopes that Wiley’s going to be where his address says he is. How recent is this address that Finnick gave you? For the grandmother?”

            Her partner turned to face her, and even in the dark she noted that his uniform seemed to have slowly degraded during the day. The button underneath his chin had come loose, his cuffs were rolled up, and his blue fabric was sprouting wrinkles. There was a ragged edge to his muzzle, and a hard grip on his coffee cup, that reminded Judy that they had been going at it for over twelve hours on only about three hours of sleep.

            “Finn said he last heard from Sage two nights ago.”

            “Did she say anything about trying to go to her mother-in-law? How did Finnick get this address?”

            He shifted uneasily in his seat, and then looked at the GPS. “Not sure. Anyway, looks like we have about ten minutes before we find out if the address is still good.”

            “You said that Finnick had been in contact with her for a while. Was he the way you got to know coyotes?”

            Nick was silent for a long time, and Judy risked a side glance at him. He was grinning at her, but it was the same nonchalant grin he had given her in the middle of a fire ladder yesterday, a grin that was his last resort for masking fear. Her ears started to droop slightly. “Nick, what’s the matter?”

            He took off his sunglasses and tucked it into his pocket, and then fastened the button under his chin.

            “Finnick didn’t have the address. I did.”

            “Whaddya mean?”

            Her partner looked out his side window for a long time, as if he hadn’t heard her. Finally, he stirred.

“Um, Carrots, I need to tell you something before we apprehend this suspect.”

“Apprehend?” She squinted suspiciously. “Why are you talking to me like I’m Bogo?”

More silence. More staring. She was actually starting to worry about what was coming next.

            “I’m trying to say that, actually, I know her.”

            “What, the grandmother?”

            “Well, her too. But I actually realized today that I’ve met Sage before.”

            “Wait, what?”

            “Yeah, many years ago, I, I – lived with her.”

            Lights flickered across the dashboard of the silent cabin from neon signs.

            “Sagebrush Water, the coyote we’ve been trying to find all day? And you just thought you’d mention that little bit of trivia just now?” She flicked a glance at her partner, who was now staring silently and intently at the dashboard. His silence made her nervous. Somehow, she knew what was coming.

            “She was once my girlfriend.”

            “But she’s a coyote,” she said, automatically.

            “Yeah, Carrots. Yeah, she is.”

            Numbly, Judy stared out the windshield for a few moments. Then she inhaled quickly and the car swerved nearly out of the lane.

            “That cub you caught during the fire, was that your, your, –“

            “Easy there, Carrots,” grinned Nick, his expression thawing slightly. “No, that cub’s only a year or so old, and it’s been over eight years since I’ve seen her.” He shrugged, “She already had the older one, Laughing Water, when I met her. We never actually did anything that would make me wonder about that anyway. Heck, don’t even know if foxes and coyotes can--”

            “Why haven’t you told me this before?” Her voice came out a little shriller than planned.

            “When I heard the name this morning, I wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t until I talked to Finnick this afternoon that I was certain. Finnick knows her too, from –those days. That’s how he came across her hint that started this whole thing.”

            The moon kept peeking between passing buildings, highlighting his profile.

            “Then why are we even doing this? Finnick might still have her number. Why can’t we just call-“

            “Doubt she even has a phone. She was barely able to feed her kid when I knew her, and I doubt things have gotten any better. Even if she had, she’d hang up as soon as she knew it was me.”

            “You’ve had no contact at all with her for eight years? Look, Nick, we have” –she glanced at the GPS display –“ only about five minutes before we pull up to this apartment. You need to tell me what we’re getting into, now.” She let her cop persona take charge. Just the facts, please.

            She determinedly kept her eyes fixed on the road, but heard Nick draw a long, painful sigh.

            “It’s very hard for me to talk about this because I’m not proud about it. It happened some time after I started hustling, but still hadn’t a clue what I was doing. I was near starving most of the time, and desperate all of the time. She was desperate too. She had a young cub, a missing or dead father, and a serious mushroom addiction. We crossed paths, I needed food and a roof over my head, she had her special endangered species benefits, and she needed– well, I guess it came down to she just wanted a male at her place to give an illusion of stability for her son and soothe her loneliness. Loneliness is a big deal for endangered species.”

            Judy clutched the wheel, letting Nick’s words seep into her.

            “So it really wasn’t so much a relationship as much as a partnership of convenience. We never really did anything, well, you know.” He vaguely gestured with his paws, while Judy steadfastly clamped down the numerous images struggling to be born in her brain.

            “How long were you with her?”

            “A couple of years, maybe a little more. I stayed longer than I wanted to”. Now that he was talking, the words were coming faster. “I actually liked her little kid, Laughing Water--‘Laffie’, I called him, and I just hated the thought of him being alone with his mom. But wow, her relatives didn’t like me one bit. Interspecies relationships are a very touchy thing with them. It happens a lot, as you might imagine, but it’s frowned upon. I mean, coyotes maybe could put up with wolves in the family, but a fox was scrapping the bottom of the barrel. Her mother-in-law, Watercress, the one we’re visiting-- now that female is a real piece of work. I’m almost looking forward to getting her reaction to seeing me again, just to see if she busts an artery.”

“So that’s how you know about coyotes. And that’s why it ended? The tribe?”

“Well, I was actually the one that called it quits, after Sage sold some—personal things—of mine to feed her mushroom habit. For the second time. She said it was part of her religion, staying true to her people’s culture, but the truth was she was addicted to the ‘visions’ she got from those ‘shrooms. I’ve watched her sitting, catatonic for hours, while little Laffie cried and tried to get her attention. Not sure how the kid would have fed himself if I hadn’t been around. Stayed on six months longer than I would have just because of that.”

“Couldn’t you have Cub Services get involved?” Even as she asked, she felt the naivety of the question.

“You seem to know that answer already, Fluff,” he said quietly. “Young animals disappear into the foster care system and are never seen again. Just ask Finnick…” He let the implication hang. “But I did come to terms with Laffie’s grandmother on this. I agreed to leave Sage if she agreed to step in and help the cub. So I left, and Sagebrush and Laffie soon vanished from the apartment and then from my life. Until yesterday.”

The GPS tonelessly told her that the parkway exit was coming up. She chose her words carefully.

“Nick,” she said gently. “Even if you weren’t sure about Sage, you should have let me know. This, this is an important thing for the case, a conflict of interest even…”.

She pulled her car off the parkway and entered into a maze of anonymous three-story apartment buildings. There was trash scattered in some of the alleyways, as well as some half-hearted graffiti sprayed on the walls of some generic convenience stores, but the overwhelming impression was not of crime but of a plain, uninspiring, and tired poverty.

Nick was still mulling over her words.

“You’re right, I guess, and I’ll even admit I’ve been pretty sure it was her ever since this morning. And Finnick, in his own way, told me the same thing this afternoon. I guess I’m just kind of ashamed…”

“…of leaving the cub.”

“Yeah, and…” he stared out the window. “Well, you know.”

Yeah, she knew. Interspecies relationships were not exactly uncommon. Even when she had been in school in Bunnyburrow, there were the occasional rumors about a rabbit dating a hare, but no one would admit doing such a thing openly. It was a desperate thing males did with loose females when they couldn’t cut it with their own species. Wasn’t something to be proud about, it was something that ancient instincts told everyone was a sign of flunking the most basic test in life: finding a mate.

Interspecies relationships were something that failures did.

To the extent that she had let herself think about Nick’s past love life (not that she let herself think about it often, of course) she had had always some hazy vision of a lighthearted parade of attractive vixens attempting to curl their tails around his heart, as he always artfully dodged their advances and entanglements, leaving them frustrated yet unhurt, just hustlin’ himself out of any long-term romance, leaving him cheerfully untouched and unapproachable by anyone until-- well, she’d probably been guilty of romanticizing his past slightly.

But now, hearing a slice of the grim truth about his past relationships, she thought sadly that it just sounded small, depressing, and desperate. Too real and too ordinary. Of course she’d known that he’d had a hard life. She’d no right to expect otherwise, and it really wasn’t intellectually surprising that he’d had this – this, _relationship_ -with a coyote. And Nick was clearly scared of losing her respect, maybe even her friendship, over this fact. She could see his claws gripping his pants as he stared out the windshield, waiting for some response from her.

He didn’t need to worry. She’d seen what kind of mammal he was plenty of times over the past year—the past day even—and she was even touched he would even be worried about losing her esteem over something that had happened so long ago. So clearly, this ball of revulsion and disappointment she felt in her stomach had to be meaningless, and she resolutely quashed it down and resolved to ignore it. But she couldn’t decide what to say. Say that she understood why he hadn’t talked? Wouldn’t that be the same thing as saying he really should have been ashamed of his past?

“OK, “ he cleared his throat. “We’re here.”

Distracted, she had driven past the address, so she parked a block down the street, catty-corner from the four-story mound that resembled an anthill with windows. She eyed the third story windows in an attempt to guess which one was the grandmother’s. She shoved her confused feelings back into the appropriate compartment and switched on her professional mindset. They’d have a chance to sort out this situation between them later. Time to serve and protect. She felt the world settle into a clear order.

“OK, partner, we’ll pick this up later, if you want to. But really, Nick, it’s not a big deal. However, given this past—history—you have, it comes down to one thing right now. Should it be you or me for the front door? Would Sage or her mother-in-law be more likely to open the door for you, or for a stranger like me? I mean, even if things didn’t end well with her, you still ended up saving her youngest cub yesterday.”

Licking his chops nervously, Nick chuckled, “I’m honestly tempted to just sit in the car, but I wasn’t kidding about seeing Steaming Water having a heart attack.”

“Steaming is the in-law’s name?”

“It's my private nickname for her, since it matches her personality. Her real name is Watercress Moonshadow, entirely too peaceful a name for her personality. Yeah, so I’ll go ahead and take the front. But maybe –“

“I’ll take the back window, by the tree escape, in case the sight of you has the opposite effect.”

“Exactly.”

The dark silhouette of the tree escape peeked behind the mound. Out in the wide Meadowlands the basic residential unit seemed to be six mounds arranged as a hexagon, with a small open clearing in the center, dominated by a large tree whose branches had been carefully trimmed to reach every window in the upper stories of the complexes.   Unlike the dense housing in the middle of Zootopia, enough space existed here to allow trees to be a more cost-effective option than individual fire escapes.

“Be careful, Carrots. Sage Water may be whacked out, and remember what I said about rabbits and coyotes this morning?”

“Now you’re playing in stereotypes.” She patted her tranq gun holstered on her hip, checked her cuffs, and thumbed the button on her portable radio, hearing her partner’s radio squawking briefly in response. “OK, I give you three bursts when I’m in position.” Nick nodded, and she slipped out the door.

 

* * *

 

Five minutes later, she sat on the branch of the large pine tree growing behind the complex. She could see a faint glow behind the drawn shades sitting fifty feet away from her at eye level. So maybe they were in luck and someone was home. Climate control was only a thing for Central Zootopia; here in the “economy” housing region, natural weather reigned supreme. Fortunately, it was a calm, clear night with only a slight breeze, and the street lamps were spaced far enough apart that the stars could be seen clearly across the sky. A half moon cast a luminous sheen across the regular grid of escape trees that loomed over the hexagonal landscape of rooftops and TV antennas, giving Judy the impression that she was sitting on the quill of a porcupine’s back.

Stealthily she crawled forward on all fours until she was just twenty feet from the window. Her ears picked up low murmurings of at least two individuals, and a lupine-like shadow flickered briefly across the shade. She pressed the button on her walkie-talkie three times in quick succession.

A few moments later she heard a faint knock on the front door deep inside the building. A silence clamped down over the entire apartment. There was some soft murmuring, including the whimpering of a small kit, and she saw all lights extinguished, except for a faint glow that she assumed came from a light in the front hallway.

Her keen hearing heard a raspy voice say, “Yes. Who is it?”

Nick’s faint voice carried over. “This is Officer Wilde from the ZPD. I apologize for the late hour, but I was wondering if I could come in for a moment?”

She heard a low, urgent voice barking some commands, and then the shade ruffled slightly.

Her keen ears heard door hinges squeak, followed by a moment of silence.

“It has been a long time since I’ve seen you, fox, traitor to my people, traitor to my family,” the raspy voice growled. “You are police, now, I see. Clearly, the Creator has a sense of humor.”

“Hello, Grandmother, it’s been a while, but I see that your tongue remains as sharp as your teeth,” she heard Nick banter cheerfully.

“Tricky words from the Trickster’s minion,” growled Watercress Moonshadow.

“I’d love to catch up with you, but I’m actually here to ask some questions about Sage’s difficult experience yesterday. May I beg the hospitality of The People?”

“My daughter and grandchildren are not here. Leave your lies with me and I will give them to her. I will let her decide whether she wants to be hurt by you again.” Unfortunately for her story, a clear whimper of a toddler carried across the entire apartment an instant after she finished speaking.

“That’s a mighty good sound system you have for your TV in there, Grandmother,” Nick said. “Sure sounds like a child back there. Look, I’m here to help, not to get anyone into trouble.”

A black gap appeared in the window as the shade quietly rose up, followed by the glass. A scrawny figure crept into the moonlight, testing its weight on the branch, before crawling directly towards Judy.

            “So where are Sage and her kids? I know we didn’t leave on good terms, grandmother, but I am worried about her, little Laffie, and the new guy. There is more to this fire than at first glance. Didn’t she tell you how my partner and I helped yesterday?”

Judy flicked on the penlight on her tranq gun, holding it away from her body as she caught the coyote in its glare.

            “ZPD! Stop there, please!” she cried.

            The face caught in her halo of light was an older and definitely more frightened version of the photo she had seen earlier. As Sage’s pupils contracted in the bright light she snarled and crouched down on the branch on all fours.

            “Please back up slowly toward the window please! Keep your paws where I can see them!” Cuffing would be the safest thing to do, but the branch was too unsteady to do it safely here.

            Her muzzle contorted in fury, Sage scrambled back towards the window until her hindquarters were squatting back on the windowsill. Judy thought she saw two small golden eyes reflected in the darkness behind the coyote.

            She should probably wait for Nick, but Sage was making a motion to move back inside, so no time to lose. She padded forward on the branch until she was a few feet away from Sage’s face, just out of reach of her front claws. “Freeze, now, and stretch out your paws slowly in front of you!”

            She heard a door thump open somewhere in the apartment, and from the flicker of Sage’s ears, she figured she had heard it too. A room light turned on in the adjacent room, casting the coyote in silhouette and illuminating Judy’s face. Quickly Sage opened one front paw and grasped the tree branch, but the other paw remained clenched, pads pointed toward the sky, as she lifted it up to her face.

            “Stop-“ Judy began, but was cut short as Sage snapped open her paw and blew furiously. A cloud of orange powder billowed off the paw straight into Judy’s face. Surprised, she choked in a big clot of powder, which had a loamy smell and slightly rubbery texture. Her eyes watered and she unconsciously shut them for an instant.

            An instant was all it took for Sage to leap forward, smashing Judy backward on the branch and dislodging her tranq gun from her hand. The rabbit bounced off the branch and desperately flailed until her paw scraped bark, and for the second time in two days she felt herself dangling precariously three stories above the ground. That realization cast her into such a fury that she did a one-arm chin up and threw one leg back over the branch, rotating her body back on top, her back now to the window. She heard the tranq gun clatter onto the ground below.

            Quickly she snapped her pen light on and looked down at her uniform, now covered with orange powder. Her pulse throbbed in her head, and she panicked, thinking about little purple balls and animals going savage. She yanked a syringe from her utility belt and jammed the tip into her thigh, the spring-loaded needle penetrating through her neoprene suit and injecting ZPD-issue Night howler antidote into her muscle. Grunting, she yanked the needle out and tossed it into the night, feeling slightly guilty about littering, but otherwise too preoccupied with glowering at the pale gray figure retreating toward the tree trunk.

            She sensed someone leaning out the window behind her, and that someone might have been saying something, but she was already accelerating down the branch after the bounding figure, the moonlight casting discombobulated shadows across the branch as she let her relatively weak night vision take over.

            Sage reached the trunk of the tree, but instead of scrambling down she leapt up and caught a branch above her, heading toward the top story of another building sitting on the hexagonal pattern. That was a smart move on her part, since Judy would easily outrun her on the ground, but in the air the rabbit was nothing but a poor imitation of a squirrel.

            She was on all fours now, trying to keep balance, but since she was actually doing something she felt herself relax, and even stretched out her body to gain more speed. She reached the trunk and bounded up onto the next branch, ignoring the faint calls behind her, and in seconds flat was on top of the next building.

            The freedom she felt running seemed to expand and fill the sky. The buildings seemed less like buildings and more like ancient cliffs, rising up above the black grasslands below. She caught a flash of pale fur glowing in the moonlight and bounded after it again. As she sped down another branch of a second tree she became aware of another rabbit running beside her. Part of her hesitated, since the bunny would have to be running on thin air, but there was no time to waste on trivial matters if she was going to catch the suspect.

            “Greetings,” the rabbit may or may not have said. Faint starlight shimmered in its ears.

            “Hello, citizen,” she panted, leaping up and around the trunk. “Are you chasing her too?”

            “No, I am here for only an eyeblink, traveling from what could be to what never was, watching all my children who are and might be.”

            “That’s nice,” she hummed, skimming across cliffs under the twinkling stars. She twinkled back.

            “I watch you with interest. I am always looking for new members for my Owsla, whether they have or have not been, and one day, _homba_ friend, you may find me again.”

            “That’s nice,” she smiled, “but right now I’m an officer of the ZPD, and I need to do… something.”

            “Beware the shadows,” whispered a voice around her.

            She looked up at the sky and felt ice in her heart. Something dark was blocking out the sky, something with a bunch of tendrils worming their way down to earth, dancing shadows that seemed to entangle everything they touched.

            “I need to do something,” she said again.

            “You were chasing the moon,” said the voice, echoing down a distant corridor, and she swirled around, but saw nothing but trees and cliffs around her. Then she saw the moon dancing along the cliffs. Foolish moon. It was low enough in the sky that she could still catch it.

            “OK, thanks,” she said politely to the voice. “Bye-bye”.

            She danced after the moon along cliff and branch, sometimes climbing down, sometimes climbing up. She exulted in the freedom of movement, every leap forward a prayer of joy, deftly dodging stray shadows that attempted to cling to her like cobwebs. The moon seemed to be getting a little tired, which only seemed to energize her further.

            Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glow, and looking down, she saw the sun moving through the dark fields beneath her. Silly sun. Why was it below her? Shouldn’t it be in the sky, where it belonged?

            She turned back to pursue the moon, but hesitated, as only the stars were left in the sky. She bounded forward across craggy cliffs and oddly-shaped columns, a rising panic in her chest. But then she saw the moon again, trying to slide down a tree towards the ground. Sneaky moon, but she wouldn’t outwit this bunny.

            She thought about flying down, but then that would make her a flying squirrel, and that would be really silly, because she was pretty sure she was still a rabbit. So she hopped from branch to ledge to branch, the moon growing larger and larger in front of her. She darted along a ledge just above the moon, now moving below her. Time to jump. Gotcha! She gave the pale object a big hug.

            The moon did not want to be hugged. In fact it was kinda hurting her. She had always liked the moon in Bunnyburrow, and smiled at the memory of many a campout by one of the many lakes in the district, roasting carrots in the fire while the moon watched from both in the sky and reflected from the water. But now the moon was hitting her pretty hard, and truth be told it was starting to piss her off.

            She hit the moon back, and luckily she had just the thing to catch it. She groped at her side and found what she needed, and moments later the moon was chained to the ground. Breathing heavily, Judy stood proudly by it, watching its glow casting shadows on the canyon walls surrounding her.

            Then those shadows began to move. Or more accurately, melt. Little strings of darkness seemed to shed off the dark side of the captured moon, and then drifted across the ground.   Instinctively the rabbit stood up on her two legs and stepped away, but she turned around and inhaled sharply as she saw a string of shadows emerging from the dark, wiggling along the ground toward her.

            One tiny tendril grazed her paw, and she tried to shake it off. It stuck. She grabbed it with her other paw and tried to pull it off, but only managed to get a web of shadows stretching between her hands, like stringy sticky tar. She lifted her foot and saw more strings dangling from it. More strings shed from the moon, draping across her shoulders, slithering up her legs, working toward her nose. She opened her mouth to scream…

            And then she saw the sun appear at the mouth of the canyon.

            The shadows shriveled and shrunk away as beams of light flooded her face and the ground around her. Of course--darkness cannot face the light. The light penetrated every corner of the canyon, shone on and through her, and she was almost free.

            A wave of comfort and contentment swept over her.   No matter where she went, no matter how dark the ground she tunneled into, the sun would follow her and give her hope. She lifted her chin, exposing her throat, and the darkness vanished there. She turned around and lifted her tail, evaporating the last shreds of darkness from her back. She pirouetted around and around, feeling the warmth spread all over her body, and dark shadows shredding away. The sun gave her so much; the least she could do was show her gratitude by dancing. Wildly she starting binking around the sun like a small orbiting planet. And then all at once her manic energy abandoned her, and she slumped down on the ground, which was now a meadow actually, and she was basking in the gentle light and warmth of the sunlight filtering down through the grass waving above her face, the sun now directly overhead her, descending down to her.

            Warmth was blossoming within her now. Clearly, if you get too close to the sun, you’re going to get hot, but nothing prepared her for the intense wave of sensation that washed through her, and she gasped, curling her paws and arching her spine, before sinking back down flat on her back, moaning in pleasure while flexing her claws against the ground.   Poor sun. The stars kept each other company at night, but the sun sat all alone in the sky, never betraying its loneliness. Maybe she would keep the sun company in the sky. She could be the moon for the sun. She was gray, after all. Hard to see that she was moon gray, though, when covered up by this overheating blue suit. She needed to get it off, so she could approach the sun and show it was not alone. She dropped her belt, but that wasn’t enough. Another blaze of warmth surged inside her, and she squealed in response to the overpowering feeling, her front incisors biting her lower lip so hard it began to bleed.   Her fur was streaming with sweat. She fought her neoprene suit off, ready to lie down and slumber in the fields, covering herself only in sunlight, falling asleep among the grass, showing the sun the joy she felt in its presence, preparing to join it up in the sky--

            She frowned. Something wasn’t quite right. Her sleeve was off, exposing her arm and shoulder, but she couldn’t seem to make herself take off more.

She opened her eyes and squinted at the sun’s orange flames, and realized that it seemed to be smirking.   For the first time, she listened carefully, and thought she could make out distant words across the rustling grass and humming insects in the meadow:

            “Carrots? Come on, Carrots, time for for a soft landing.”

            A pair of green emeralds—two eyes—poked out of the sun—how hadn’t she noticed it before? She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again blurrily.

            Everything was out of focus, but she could tell she was at the base of a tree, surrounded by roots tangling themselves in piles above the ground. She saw the moon reflected from a puddle next to her face, and something—no, someone, handcuffed to a root next to the puddle. Her own face was pressed to the ground—as was the rest of her. Her belt was off to her side, and her shoulder and right arm were completely bare, the arm of her neoprene suit flopping loosely beside her.

            “Judy?”

            She bolted upright into a sitting position and saw him leaning over her, panting from exertion, trying but failing to hide the fear in his face. She took one look at his wide emerald eyes, then leaned over and vomited in the puddle. The reflected moon vanished in the murk.

            “Careful there, Carrots. Careful. You’ve just had some kind of seizure. Nod if you understand what I’m saying.”

            She nodded, not meeting his eyes. A new kind of warmth, different and less pleasant than before, now spread up her face and into her ears.

            “Great. Can you speak? Do you know who I am?”

            Nick. His name was Nick. “Nick.   I mean, Officer Wilde.” Her bare shoulder felt chilly in the slight evening breeze.

            Palpable relief washed over her partner’s face. “That’s right. Try not to touch your face or lick yourself. You’re still covered in mushroom powder. Sage blew it all over you, and I think you’re coming down from a bad trip. Don’t rub your face or you could have another one.” His phone was already out. “I’m calling the ambulance now.”

            “No!” she cried weakly, lifting herself onto her elbow, stretching out an arm pleadingly. “No hospital!”

            “Carrots, you may be coming out of it, but who knows what this stuff will do to you. You might accidently inhale some more. We need you in a place with a crash cart. You told me last night that heart attack is the number one cause of death for bunnies.”

            “I promise to go soon,” she sighed, and then pointed to her muzzle. “Evidence first.”

            “Fine,” he growled. He looked at someone over her shoulder and literally snarled, “But don’t think I’ve forgotten about you! We just wanted to talk to you! And you go off and attempt to kill her!”

            Judy heard a wheezing, high-pitched laughter, and she glanced over her shoulder to see Sage smiling, teeth gleaming in the moonlight, seemingly unconcerned that she was immobilized. “Still a drama queen, aren’t you, _Officer_ Wilde? Why, I was just expanding her mind a little. Helping her learn to fly.”

            Nick finished snapping on latex gloves, gently cupped Judy’s muzzle in his palm, and turned her head to face him.   “OK, careful there, lil’ bunny,” he muttered as he carefully swabbed some powder off her nose and lips with an evidence kit. His eyes were so close to hers, she couldn’t stand it. She closed her eyes and felt a shudder run down her spine.

            “Keep your eyes closed,” he warned, and she felt water trickling down her face, down her eyelids, off her lashes, down her muzzle, and splashing onto the ground, as if she were crying. The pouring stopped, and she opened her eyes, watching a small bloody stream of water dribble into the murky puddle.

            “Damn miracle you even made it down from the tree in one piece,” he growled, as he dabbed a piece of gauze on her cut lip. “Didn’t we agree yesterday that foxes are the ones to be climbing things? Have to give it to ya, though, that you still managed to tackle and cuff Sage, even when you’re high as a kite”.

            “No ambulance yet,” she gasped in reply. “Secure the scene first.”

            “What scene?”

            “The apartment. Need to back there and make sure grandma or kid isn’t hiding or destroying evidence.”

            “No way, fluff, let’s get the ambulance, and then I’ll call in some backup.”

            She grabbed his wrist, despising herself for pleading, yet still pleading. “No Nick, I’m feeling much better, honestly. It wasn’t a seizure, just a – hallucination. Let’s not lose this trail. Tell you what. Take me by the apartment, and then I promise I’ll go to the hospital. Quietly. Please.”

            He stared into her eyes for a moment, and then reluctantly put the portable radio down. “Judy…”

            “Please. Not just yet.” She was so embarrassed and humiliated that her best friend had seen her act like such an, an _animal_ , that she felt like she was going to weep from shame, something she had only done twice in her life. She started to tug her neoprene suit back over her shoulder, self-consciously turning her bare fur away from Nick’s stare.

            Nick’s cautious expression relaxed somewhat. “Here, I can help with that. You know, I have ta admit, I didn’t even know your suit even _had_ a zipper on it—“

            “Not now, Wilde,” she muttered. “And if I hear _any_ comments about Yax or Mystic Spring Oasis, so help me, you’re going to be checking into the hospital with me”.

            Her flash of temper seemed to resolve a debate within Nick’s mind.

            “O.K.” he said, firmly. He shoved the radio in her hand. “I’m going back up the street to fetch the car and come get you two, and then we’ll stop by the apartment. Here’s your radio. But I’m calling every couple of minutes to check that you’re still conscious. No response, I call the EMTs.” He then surprised her by pulling off his handcuffs and cuffing her paw to another tree root. “And that’s to keep you from trying to gnaw through a sewer lid, in case a second round hits you and you think you’re a beaver or something.” He detached his tranq gun and shoved it into her paw. “And that’s for your protection in case something happens in the next five minutes, which, knowing you, will probably happen.” He gave a broad toothy grin toward the coyote. “Hope she doesn’t trip out and start peppering you with darts, sweetie. Because you totally wouldn’t deserve something like that.”

            Judy had returned her gaze to the ground. “Thanks, Nick. I, I appreciate this.”

            “Remember, hospital after the apartment. No complaints.”

            She nodded her head, and then heard his feet padding away back up toward their car.   She felt she could boil water on her ears, and tried to focus on keeping her breathing steady, ears flopped over her back.

* * *

 

            “You have had a vision.”

            The voice broke the evening stillness. She lifted her head to stare at Sage, whose long angular face was pointing with great interest at her. Twin moons reflected in her eyes, and her entire mangy coat of fur glowed gray in the moonlight.

            “I can tell. I watched you chase and catch me. You have had a glimpse of Truth.”

            Judy didn’t dignify her words with a reply, but worked on tugging her suit back over her shoulder.

            “Mushrooms grow in dark and hidden places,” Sage continued. “They are good at revealing dark and hidden things. About the world. About yourself. I have found they sometimes show you things about yourself that you would rather remain hidden.” She grinned. “I had no idea that you would travel the Path like a true Person.”

            Judy wanted nothing more than forget the past few minutes. Time to play the Officer Hopps role. “Ma’am, what were you hoping to gain by that little stunt? Were you just hoping I’d fall from the tree? Why did you run from us anyway? You had no reason to flee, unless you really are trying to hide something.”

            Sage’s face looked bored. “ _You_ are trying to hide something by talking like this. I know you already know these answers. I saw you struggling on the ground. I’m trying to get away from their traps, their snares, their _webs._ ”

            Judy tried not to flinch. “These traps, do they have something to do with your brother Wiley?”

            “I notice that you have not arrested me,” the coyote said, straightening up, snout in the air. “I will say no more.”

            Judy’s radio blasted some static. “Officer Hopps, report in.”

            She fingered the button twice.

            “Officer Hopps, report in,” repeated Nick, annoyance coming through loud and clear.

            Judy sighed and pressed down the button. “Officer Wilde, this is Officer Hopps. All secure here.” He was worried about her. Which made her feel worse. If he wasn’t teasing her, that meant she had been truly awful in front of him. Oh gods, how would she ever look him in the eye again? She felt sweat continuing to trickle down her fur inside the suit.

            “He sounds very much like a police officer,” mused Sage, leaning back against the pipe, apparently oblivious to Judy’s internal torment. “He was always very good at disguises. He has told you about him and me?”

            Judy nodded silently, looking at her askance from the corner of her eye.

            “I’m sure he has told you something that makes him look good. He is very good at making himself look good,” she continued. “And I am sure he did not make me look very good.”

            Judy said nothing, but watched the recent contents of her stomach settle down into the puddle in front of her as she finally managed to slip her suit back on.

            “We may have just met, but I feel we are sisters, you and I,” Sage said. “Predator and prey we may be, but your ancestor’s flesh once became my ancestor’s flesh, a bond almost like family. You and I, we have both have faced the Truth, we both have walked the Path.” She said earnestly, “I will tell you something about Munches that I would not normally tell a stranger.”

            Judy’s ears perked slightly. “Munches? You mean Officer Wilde?”

            “He has many names, for he can be many things. But no matter what the disguise, he will always do what is best for him.”

            Judy refused to respond.

            “Beware of him, for he has the Trickster in him. He will try to capture your heart. ‘If only someone will give me a chance’, he will say.   ‘If only someone will believe in me’. He fooled me. I once thought he had saved me from a bad situation, and I let him move in with me. It took me time to realize that I had only traded one bad situation for another. When he left, I was tempted to let him find me again, for he is very good at looking at you like you are special, and I got very lonely. But I made sure he never found us again. I would not lose my heart again.”

            Judy simply sat, focusing on steadying her breathing, working on revealing nothing.

            “Do not let him into your heart, rabbit. You may think you are safe from that, because you are a bunny, and he is a fox, but he is a Trickster, and he will trick you into thinking that you can trust him. But when the moment comes, when Truth is revealed, you will find that the only one he will help is himself.”

            She mercifully fell into silence, and the two females sat across from each other, both chained to roots somewhere in the vast anonymity of the Meadowlands, with the stars and the moon sitting silently above them all.

  

* * *

         

Many Zootopia fanfiction writers could not resist a tribute to Richard Adams’ _Watership Down_ , and neither can I.

 

This chapter contains one of the first scenes I thought of for this story, and it is a relief to finally have it out of my head and onto a page. I’m also really looking forward to the next upcoming chapter, ‘Laughing and Crying’. No bets on when that will arrive.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Laughing and Crying

Judy was listless. It was not a feeling she was used to having, and was not a feeling she wanted to experience again anytime soon. She slumped in the passenger seat of the cruiser, head resting against the side window, unable to even muster the energy to be annoyed by the bickering between the car’s two other occupants.

“You are not going to arrest me.”

“Too late. Already happened.”

“I cannot risk going to jail.”

“You should’ve thoughta that before you tried to kill a police officer.”

“I was just trying to get away. I was scared.”

“Not an excuse, Sage, for shoving a dangerous drug into my partner’s face.”

“My grandmother cannot care for my children by herself.”

“You sure seemed ready to let her try when you were sneaking out the back window by yourself!”

O.K., maybe the bickering was getting a _little_ annoying. Her phone beeped an alert. Grateful for the distraction, she pulled up the screen and saw that Peter’s app had finished downloading. Activating the icon on the home screen, she was startled, then amused, by a goofy caricature of her new friend that popped up over a blank blue background. Little word balloons popped up:

“Hello, Officer Hopps! I’ve whipped together all census and address data on the Zootopia coyote population<footnote>. When you look up an individual, the app can extract all known addresses over the past twenty years<footnote>, as well as link to all family connections by both biology, marriage, and common-law residency <footnote>. I put this together pretty quickly, so sorry in advance if it erases your phone. Just kidding (I hope)! Good luck and prepare to enjoy the power of recordkeeping!”

Out of curiosity Judy tapped on the first footnote:

“By ‘population’ I mean all individuals that have been documented to have at least 25% DNA designated as Canis latrans, based on birth certificate form Z-15X submitted by the hospital at birth. Records are restricted to individuals that have resided at least six or more weeks over the past 20 years within districts officially designated as being under the jurisdiction of the City of Zootopia. These districts include the following…”

A particularly urgent edge to Sage’s voice snapped Judy back into the war of words in the cruiser.

“Putting me in jail will put the children in danger.”

“I really, really, really, wanna think that you’re worried about your kids, but I’ve known you for a long time, and I’m not buying your dedicated mother act here. You’re not exactly a forward thinker.”

“You don’t really know me, or what we’re going through. You left a long time ago.”

Earlier this evening Judy had mentally accepted the surprising revelation that Nick and the drug addict coyote in the backseat had been in a relationship. But now the emotional weight of that knowledge was starting to sink in, as she sensed the undertones of the argument wafting back and forth between the front and back seat. The argument felt almost routine, as if it were a tradition that had been repeated many times before, by two animals that, through much practice, had learned how to most effectively get under each other’s skins. Only now was Judy truly beginning to accept, deep down, that these two had been in a past relationship. She mustered all her strength to cut off Nick’s tart reply.

“How are the children going to be in danger, Ms. Water? Is it just that they’d be alone with their grandmother?”

A noticeable hesitation.

“Yes, my mother-in-law is very old and cannot take care of a toddler for long. It exhausts her. She can no longer see well—she’s nearly blind.”

“Watercress Moonshadow seemed to see well enough when I was talking to her in the apartment just a little while ago,” muttered Nick.

“You might have two eyes, but you’re blinder than she is.”

“Don’t start on one of your ‘vision’ lectures with me, you mushroom-munching-“

“Actually, she might have a point,” Judy interrupted, hoisting herself up in her seat. “About her mother-in-law having a hard time seeing, I mean. Isn’t that Laughing Water leading Ms. Moonshadow right up there?”

A few minutes earlier, when Nick had returned with the cruiser to pick up the two handcuffed females, Judy had had to argue once again not to go directly to the hospital, but to first gather up the rest of the Water family. Instead of flooring it back to the apartment, she had insisted that the cruiser spiral in around and toward the building, in case the rest family had also decided to flee. Nick had grumbled, but finally relented when he saw how adamant she was, and when she made the always sacred “cross my heart and hope to die” promise to go to the hospital afterwards.

And now their roundabout approach seemed to have paid off, for up in the headlights they saw two figures huddling against the wall of one of the many anonymous tenant buildings in the Meadowlands. Two pairs of golden eyes caught the car beams and reflected in the darkness. Nick activated his brights and threw Laughing Water and Watercress in stark relief. The young teenager had his grandmother’s hand and clearly seemed to be trying to lead her down a side alley. Judy saw a little bundle strapped across Laughing’s back and realized that the toddler Singing Water was also with them, completing the family portrait.

Nick turned on his flashing lights, but didn’t activate the siren. Laughing tried to urge his grandmother to move faster into the alley, but the old woman seemed to be channeling a sloth as she grimly and fiercely padded down the sidewalk into the dark opening, staring straight ahead, firmly gripping her grandson’s paw for guidance, large sunglasses perched incongruously on her muzzle in the inky darkness. Street lamps were clearly not a big priority out here.

“Looks like your son’s trying to guide her,” Judy remarked over her shoulder. “He seems pretty loyal to his grandma.”

“Yeah, he didn’t just sneak out the window and leave her,” snarked the fox.

“My mother-in-law can take care of herself; I’m surprised you could forget that,” muttered Sage from behind the grilled back seat. “Go remind yourself; why don’t you go try to bully her around?”

Nick already had the door open and was half-out before Judy even had the chance to crack hers. Framed in the car lights, the old coyote seemed to sense a worthy opponent approaching, and slowly pivoted toward the headlights, despite the urgent tugs in the other direction provided by Laughing Water.

Feeling as week as a newborn kit, Judy collapsed back into her seat and watched the two adversaries approach. Watercress lifted her muzzle and perked her ears as Nick approached, speaking. She shoved her muzzle up in the air disdainfully, lips curled into a snarl, mirroring Nick’s expression. Clearly, no love lost between these two.

Judy took advantage of the moment to turn around and peer at Sage through the grille. Oddly enough, she found she didn’t share Nick’s anger with the scruffy coyote, even though she had been the one on the receiving end of her mischief. Perhaps because it was that she didn’t have the energy to get angry, but she also couldn’t help feel some sympathy for her situation, even though she knew Nick would frown at her naïve faith in people.

“Ms. Water, I do believe you’re scared for your family, but I don’t think it’s us you’re scared of. We’ve been looking for you because we’re following a tip that yesterday’s fire at your former apartment might have been set deliberately because you were living there.”

Sage said nothing, but Judy could see the golden gleam of her eyes flashing behind the grille.

“We’ve also been told that this might have something to do with your brother, Wiley. We’re actually trying to help you. Has someone been threatening your family?”

“The police can’t help, you can’t help, no one can help,” Sage said sadly. “You saw the vision. They’re everywhere and have a hold of everybody. By coming here you’re only helping them find us.”

“Who’s them, Ms. Water?”

Sage shook her head silently. “Please, please just let us go and leave us be. We’re already going to have to leave this place with my mother-in-law and find somewhere else. You’ve done enough damage. Please don’t do anything-“

Something jolted the cruiser, prompting the bunny to swerve around. To her surprise, she found herself staring into Nick’s eyes. Her partner was sprawled facedown on top of the hood, looking a bit surprised himself. Standing just in front of the car, paws clenched, was Laughing Water, snarling. Glaring at Nick, the young coyote slipped off his little brother’s wrap and handed it to Watercress, who duly turned around and headed back into the alley.

Judy saw a bead of blood well up on Nick’s lips. Unconsciously, the red fox licked the drop up with his tongue. His quick expression of shock quickly flashed into anger, and Nick shoved himself off the hood, whipping himself around to face Laughing, who had positioned himself between his grandmother and a fuming Nick.

The young rabbit felt a surge of energy pulse through her as her own anger grew. What were these animals thinking? They were trying to help them, for crying out loud! She shoved open her door just as Laughing tackled her partner again, driving Nick’s legs against the front grill. Although only a teenager, Laughing had a hefty build and seemed to use his momentum well. Nick glanced down at the ground and saw his precious sunglasses, cracked, on the pavement. He growled furiously.

“All right, kid, guess you don’t remember me. How I helped you out when you were little? You really wanna be arrested? Fine, have it your way,” he hissed, whipping out his handcuffs and plowing into the young canine, driving him away from the car and fifteen feet backward against a wall. Judy heard the slight “whoosh” of air being forced out of Laughing’s lungs by the impact.

Judy slammed the door shut and began walking, unsteadily at first, toward the fighting mammals, determined to break up the fight.

“Back, carrots,” barked Nick, as he roughly flipped the young man around and cuffed his claws behind his back. Oddly, the coyote was no longer snarling or fighting. Instead, he was glancing cautiously over his shoulder toward the car, squinting against the headlights.

“My mom in there?” he asked.

“Yeah, and you’re going to join her-“ Nick began, but wasn’t able to finish, because at that moment Laughing tossed his head back against Nick’s and wormed his way out from the fox’s grip. He then began running down the street away from the car and the grandmother, hands still cuffed behind him.

Judy ran after him, but felt like she was swimming through molasses.

“Stay put, Carrots,” barked Nick sharply, as he overtook her easily, holding what seemed to be a bleeding snout. “You’re hurt, remember?” He then turned and disappeared into the gloom after the rapidly retreating figure.

“Nick,” she tried to warn him, but her lungs were too weak to generate more than a weak squeak. What her partner was doing, without backup, was dangerous and against ZPD procedures. It felt odd to be, for once, the one warning her partner about being impulsive and not taking risks. But at the moment, she couldn’t do much about anything. So, keeping her sensitive ears trained down the street to track the sounds of the pursuit, she turned her attention to Watercress, easily spotting the old predator’s outline in the dark alley behind their vehicle. She ambled after the stooped outline.

“Hello…. Grandmother,” Judy said, trying to imitate Nick’s cadence and tone he had used around the coyote elders early that morning (Cheese and crackers, was that really only this morning?). “I’m Judy Hopps with the ZPD, and believe it or not, we’re only trying to help out…”

“Yes, I know who you are, Officer _rabbit,”_ Watercress said, slowing down and turning her sunglassed gaze toward Judy. “You helped save my grandson yesterday. Thank you for that.”

The unexpected complement threw Judy for a moment. “Well, you’re welcome. I take it that’s the little fella slung over your back? Is he recovering OK?”

“The young can survive just about anything,” the old coyote nodded philosophically, “it is the old that have difficulty coping with the great trials of life. But yes, the little one seems to be sleeping soundly around this craziness that seems all too normal for my daughter.”

“It is not safe out here for both old and young, grandmother. May I take you back to the car to sit with your daughter until my partner returns? You’re not in trouble or under arrest, or anything like that.”

“And what about my daughter?”

“Well, I’m trying to avoid arresting her, but she’s really tempting my partner.”

“Ah yes, Munches rides again.” Watercress muzzle seemed to struggle between a snarl and a smile as she removed her sunglasses. Judy was startled to see her eyes were completely white, clouded over with cataracts.

“No offense, ma’am, but how could you even tell who I was?”

“Smell. We used to eat your kind, so our noses seem to be able pick out the smallest hint of your presence. I’ve been told it is rude to say things like that, but frankly I’m too old to care anymore. Our history has been so entwined with your species that we can almost smell what you’re thinking—certainly what you’re feeling. Happy, sad, scared, nervous, and –“, she paused significantly, “excited.”

A mortification that Judy had only just started to tamp down flared up again.

“Oh, yes, embarrassment too,” the ancient matron added absently, nodding to herself.

“Yeah, well your daughter hit me with her …hobby, and I had a pretty intense dream, or I guess ‘vision’, as your daughter would say.”

“Yes, she likes to disguise her mushroom addiction as a religious experience. Well, Ms. Rabbit, I’m scenting that you must have had a very, um, _pleasant_ and _intense_ experience. Any Person who’s not a completely senile moron would certainly smell any rabbit that’s in the _mood_ you’re in. In fact, would probably smell that happy rabbit up to half a mile away. Very strong scent. Don’t think you’d be able to run away from any of the The People in the old times.”

“Good thing I’ve no interest in running, then.” Ears still burning slightly, she plunged on. “And since I’m clearly not hiding anything from you, perhaps you could return the favor and not hide anything from me. We have reason to believe that yesterday’s building fire that nearly killed your grandson might be related to something going on with your family—maybe Sage’s brother? Wiley?”

Ms. Moonshadow shook her head slowly. “I wish I could trust you, Officer Rabbit. I smell your sincerity, but you are police, and my daughter says that police already came by her apartment just a few days ago, also trying to find her brother.”

“What?” Judy exclaimed. “Police? As in ZPD?”

“You’ll have to ask her yourself. All I’ve been told by my daughter is that her troublemaker brother saw something he was not supposed to, and now she and her children are in trouble. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that trouble involved the police. Which is why I am going to take my grandkits and disappear from anyone wearing your uniform as soon as possible. Especially if you do end up arresting my daughter.”

Judy opened her muzzle to respond, but then her ears twitched. A familiar voice was coming over her radio.

“Officer Hopps, Officer Wilde, please respond.”

She quickly fumbled the hand mic into her paw. “Hopps here.”

“Carrots, sorry to ask this of ya, but I’m gonna need you to bring the car.”

The cruiser pulled up by two figures along the sidewalk, one standing, one prone on the ground, two blocks down from where they had initially pulled up. After checking that Sage, Watercress, and little Singing Water were all nestled safely in the back seat (with the toddler snoozing peacefully on Sage’s chest), Judy slipped out and joined her partner, who looked both exasperated and pensive as he glowered at the figure on the ground.

“Tranq’d him, huh?” the rabbit nodded knowingly. “That’ll be another mound of paperwork for you to fill out later.”

Nick groaned, dabbing a cloth on the slight trickle of blood from his lips. “Well, was the only way I was going to stop him. Tried to use the lightest dose I –“ he stopped as the figure on the ground moaned and shifted position. “Guess the kid is bigger than what I guessed for the dosage. He’s coming to now.” He bent over, checked the cuffs, and raised the kit into a slumped sitting position. Laughing Water looked at the two officers blurrily, shook his head, and then yawned. As he tried to raise his paws to scratch his nose, he realized they were cuffed. The look of shock was quickly replaced by comprehension.

Judy leaned over. “Hello there. Do you remember your name and today’s date?”

The young coyote nodded, but before he could respond further, her partner interrupted brusquely.

“Laughing Water, you have the right to remain silent—“

“Actually, sir” said Laughing calmly, “I needed to talk with you, but away from MaMa and Mom.” Gone was the aggression, and he talked casually, even with his paws cuffed behind him. “So I kinda needed to put up a scene to get some space away from them. They both in the car right now?”

Judy nodded, perplexed. Nonplussed yet suspicious, Nick hauled the young coyote up and pressed him against the wall, legs spread apart. “Again, you have the right to remain—“

“Mr. Wilde, I just wanted to ask you for some advice.”

Both the fox and the rabbit froze in place, and Judy’s ears flipped up straight and alert, focused on the coyote.

“Advice?” Nick repeated dumbly. “You sucker punched me in order to _talk_?”

“Don’t want my mom to hear this, or poor Ma-Ma either. Can you shove me against the wall one more time, so it looks like you’re fighting me? They’re probably watching from the car.”

Nick backed away from the wall, paws in the air, looking utterly confused for a moment, an expression Judy was sure she shared at that moment. The two partners looked at each other, mouths slightly open. Years of con-mammal experience led Nick to recover faster, and he managed to croak, “what kinda advice?”

“I wanna ask you— umm, Officer Wilde, some advice about females.”

“You want to ask me. About girls.” Nick deadpanned, thrown completely off guard, a moment that Judy knew she was going to have to commit to memory and savor at some later time. A laugh began working its way up from her chest, and a new vitality coursed through her body, her sluggish senses stirring to at least a partial alertness. It had been quite the couple of days—she’d now seen her partner knocked off his guard at least three times. She told herself she was a hypocrite—she was enjoying Nick getting embarrassed, so soon after her own recent embarrassment—but her quiet self-chiding couldn’t stop her from feeling much better regardless.

“Listen, Laffie,” Nick muttered, “I’ve got an injured partner I’ve got to take to the hospital, I’ve just had to arrest your mom, and your delightful grandma is probably trying to put a curse on me behind my back right now. You’ve given me a haymaker to my jaw, and I’m this close to giving you one back, even though I liked you when you were younger. Guess what I’m trying to say is that now is really not the time. Common Carrots, let’s get him in the car and you to the ER.”

“Yeah, I can tell what mood you’re in,” Laughing said wryly, “but turns out you’re the closest thing to a – maybe not a father, but a trusted adult - that I have. Kinda lame, huh?” he added, with a touch of classic teenage self-pity. “Says a lot about my life to even have to ask you about this.” The youngster tried to steal a glance over his shoulder. “Look, just rough me up and walk me a little ways away, and maybe you can spare just a few minutes?”

She saw Nick working his jaw in frustration.

“Look, kid, we gotta get my partner –“

“Actually, Officer Wilde, I think I might be able to cling to life just a _little_ longer.” She barely managed to put her most earnest, pleading expression on her face, fighting back a teasing grin that threatened to burst forth at any moment. “This young man clearly needs some assistance, and we at the ZPD are here to help serve the public, aren’t we?”

Emerald eyes swung onto her, narrowing dangerously.

“And it would be a shame if you couldn’t pass on your _abundant_ expertise about females to the needy.”

Shooting her a squint that promised retribution later, Nick then ran a paw down his muzzle and huffed a resigned breath.

“Look Laffie, I’ve been told-“ another glare at Judy—“ I’m not exactly the best source of advice when it comes to –this sorta thing.”

“Well, you’re better than my Mom.”

“Thanks for the ringing endorsement. Well, O.K., what’s eating you? Metaphorically, I mean,” he quickly added, awkwardly glancing at Judy, to her amusement.

“Er, ma’am? Mind if I talk with Mr. –Officer Wilde, here alone?”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll let you have your little heart-to-heart talk. I’ll head back over to the cruiser and wait there. Good luck, partner.” She strode off as Nick dragged Laughing further down the street towards a dim dilapidated streetlight, only half-pretending to cuff the youngster alongside the head.

Judy reached the cruiser, opened the door, and cracked the window, but despite a lingering exhaustion, she kept herself standing outside, leaning against the car like a teenager loitering in front of a drugstore, able to hear the radio through the cracked window. The fresh air would do her some good. And if her hypersensitive ears happened to point toward the two figures in the distance, and if she was able to accidently hear what was going on, since the car was turned off—well, she had warned Nick this morning that although her mama had tried, she hadn’t raised a saint, and she wasn’t going to miss what was about to happen for the world.

* * *

_

“O.K., spill it.”

“So,” Laughing rubbed his arm nervously, “as soon as I heard that a fox saved my baby brother, I somehow knew it would be you. Do you remember me at all?”

Nick’s face relaxed. “Of course I do, kid. I’ve actually thought about you off and on over the years. I felt bad for you, and even thought about checking up on you and your mom once I became an officer.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Because for me good intentions usually don’t pan out into good deeds. I’m the first to admit that I’ve been pretty self-centered, and while I’ve thought about you, I told myself I’d never be able to find you and your mom again after she moved away. Maybe I would’ve, may I wouldn’t of, but I never ended up actually trying. Not proud of it, and I’m sorry about it, but there you go. You want my advice; you need to know the kind of guy you’re getting it from. So what did you want to ask?”

The young coyote looked down at his shuffling feet, clearly working up the nerve to say something.

Nick had had plenty of practice setting people at their ease, and without even thinking about it he slouched nonchalantly against the lampost, posture drooping, having all the time in the world—“Glad to see that you don’t seem to be on the ‘shrooms. At least you don’t seem to have that hollow-eyed look I’ve seen in others. Am I right?”

Laughing nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah. I remember you warning me back then, and I’ve seen what it’s done to my mom, so yeah, no way I’ve gotten near the stuff. I’m even doing pretty well in school,” he added, with a hint of pride. “Or at least I was, until we’ve started running around.”

“Well, good for you. You’re doing better than I was at your age. So this female—or are we going to be talking about males? All well and good with me with that, by the way,” the fox added worldly, “no judgments here.”

“No, no,” sputtered the youngster. “It’s girls. A girl, I mean.”

“Mmmmm.”

A moment of awkward silence that drew on long enough that Nick could hear crickets off in the distance.

“Soooo…”

“Well, I was wondering—why did you leave my mom? Didn’t you like her?”

“Ermmm… I thought you wanted advice about females. By females did you mean your mother?”

“Yeah, I mean, no! I’ve actually met this female at school, see.”

“So, why are you asking about your mother and me?”

“This female—she’s a wolf. Gray wolf.”

Nick found himself glancing over his shoulder back at Judy a couple hundred feet away. His partner was staring at her phone, and not at them. He straightened up and instinctively stood with his back toward the rabbit, blocking her view of the coyote.

“You’re wondering about interspecies relationships.”

“Yeah.”

“And me and your mom are the only one you know about.”

“Yeah, don’t know of any other, at least, no one else seems willing to admit it.”

“This is a lot of meat to strip off the bone, buddy. You saw how our relationship ended.”

“Yeah, I know, and that’s what I want to know. Why did you even start it? And why did you stop? Was it because you two were too different? Or something else?”

Now it was Nick’s turn to scuff the ground, working out what to say.

“My mom, she once told me that she met you because you helped fight off three antelope trying to hurt her. That true?”

“Well, fight is not exactly the word I’d use.”

“Yeah, she said you pretended to be a police officer and scared them away.”

A faint clatter caused both of them to turn around and glance at Judy, who had accidently dropped her phone. Nick narrowed his eyes suspiciously and turned back toward Laughing, lowering his voice.

“Actually, she didn’t tell you the truth because you were pretty young. I never would have tried faking a police officer back then, because no one would have believed me. I actually pretended to be her pimp, and demanded that they either pay up or leave the merchandise alone. I figured they were tightwads, and turns out they were.” He blew out his cheeks. “So not the most romantic start, kid. You know what a pimp is, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda been weaned a long time,” the coyote said dryly. “So my mom also once said you had a thing about women being bullied, and so you blundered into the situation.”

“Yeah, maybe so. I’ve been foolish that way from time to time,” Nick said, now uncomfortably and acutely aware of a certain bunny’s presence far behind him, a bunny he had also once stood up for against a group of males, not too long ago in Tujunga Lane in the Rainforest District.

“So why did you stick with her?”

“Look kid, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you also deserve honesty. When we first met, we recognized that we could help each other. She had a roof over her head, and I had a certain –ability—to raise cash. So we were more of a business partnership than a real relationship.” Something in Laughin’s drooping ears prompted him to blurt, “But I really did like you. The best thing about the relationship, honestly, was the feeling I was there to help you out, even if just for a little bit.”

“I guess I understand why you would have left,” Laughing said hesitantly, “but still, even now, it hurts. And even though my mom never admits it, I think she actually felt something for you.”

Nick’s guilty silence settled around both of them.

“Yeah, I think she did too, at least at the beginning. But it was never a healthy relationship, and in the end I figured it was better for everyone to, well, end it.”

“Better for you, maybe.” The first hint of bitterness crept into the young coyote’s voice.

“Better for everyone,” Nick said firmly. “I made a deal with your grandma that she would take care of you if I left. Did she follow through on that promise?”

Laughing mulled over his memories. “Yeah, after you left Grandma made me move in with her for a couple of years. And since then she’s always made sure I’ve stayed in school. That your doing?”

Nick shrugged.

“So you felt nothing for my mom at all? She was just a meal ticket to you?”

Nick hesitated, searching his feelings. “I guess the strongest feeling I had, when I first met her, was pity. And young as I was at the time, I might have mistaken that for love. My pity lasted for a while.” He paused. “In a way, it still does. But that doesn’t excuse what she did to my partner tonight.”

“What did she do?”

“Sent Officer Hopps on a drug trip. No, don’t you dare smile,” Nick warned. “Could’ve killed her. Poor lady is such a straight shooter, she’s never touched anything illegal in her life: she can barely bring herself to get buzzed from a glass of beer. I can only imagine how blown her mind is right now.” Nick fought very hard to ignore the humor in the situation. He wouldn’t do that to Carrots. Not now, anyway. Change the subject.

“So, enough about me. Tell me about the Special One.”

“Her name’s Rachel. She’s got a grey pelt with cream-colored paws. She has one eye yellow and one eye blue, which she gets teased about but which I really like. She’s got black-tipped ears, a couple of spots on her coat, and her tail—“

“OK, OK, I don’t need a guided tour of her anatomy. I mean, what do you like about her?”

“Well, she knows that I’m a coyote, but doesn’t seem to care. We’ve been friends for a few years in high school—“

“How’d you become friends?”

“We both have a taste for unusual music. Folk or ethnic music, you could say. I’ve always loved the ancient songs and traditional instruments of my species, and I actually brought one of the old bone flutes my grandmother had to class one day, and she was all over it, and I played it for her, and well, I guess that’s how the friendship started. We actually go to clubs together.”

“At night? Her parents let her go?”

“Well, we go to the Nocturnal District right after school. That way we can go to the evening shows at 4pm in the afternoon. There’s this awesome place called The Last Dance, that specializes in rare and unusual music, usually from endangered species“, he paused awkwardly, “well, like myself.”

“Yeah, I know the place pretty well. So this Rachael, does she know about these feelings you have for her?”

“No, no, I’ve never told her. Maybe she suspects, but maybe I’m reading too much into it. But we text constantly, even late at night, and she keeps making me promise to take her to see some of The People’s seasonal dance ceremonies, and she asks what she should wear to something like that that would be ‘appropriate’. She’s always trying out some native piece of clothing as an accessory. Maybe she really is just excited about coyote culture, and not really so much… me.”

“Hhhmmm. And you haven’t worked up the nerve to find out.”

“No, I’m really scared about ruining my best friendship about something like that. I mean, hanging out with her was the bright spot of my day and if it ended I’d be a wreck. I’m a wreck now. I don’t think you’d understand.”

“You’re not the first mammal to worry about confusing friendship with attraction,” Nick said sagely, “and you won’t be the last.”

“But, things seemed to be building up to a head, without my really trying. We have a school dance coming up, and when I’ve asked her about it she’s admitted that a few other wolves have asked her, but that she hadn’t been interested. And then, three weeks ago, she mentioned out of the blue that no one had asked her yet, so I was starting to wonder. And then, all -- this—began.”

“You mean, your mom got scared, took you out of school and your home, and now you’ve been hightailing it all over Zootopia.”

“Yeah, and I know it’s wrong to be angry over it when my mom is so clearly scared, but I can’t help but keep thinking about whether Rachel still remembers me. I mean, the dance is only a week from now, and it’s eating me up from inside…” He sniffed quietly. “You once told me, just before you left, that you should never them see that they get to you, and I’ve tried so hard to follow your advice…”

“I’ve mellowed on that attitude over time,” Nick said. “You have to eventually open up to people or you end up trapped inside.”

It was almost as if Nick had given some form of implicit permission, and a tear began rolling down the coyote’s muzzle. He sank down and sat on the curb.

“But it’s not just that, that I may never even get a chance. It’s all the guilt.”

“Guilt?”

“I’m a coyote. An endangered species. We keep shrinking in population. I know personally all the others of my generation. Do you know what that means, what it’s like, to live every day knowing that you’re one of the last of your kind? When all your elders are putting such pressure on you to, you know….”

“I remember that arranged marriages are a thing among The People.”

“Yeah, and everyone is so desperate to get us mated. But all the matches they keep trying to arrange—we’re all so closely related I feel like I’m being set up with my sisters, and they’re embarrassed, and I’m embarrassed, and we’re all feeling guilty about it. We might not feel a hint of attraction for each other, but there’s all these generations of ancestors, all these sacrifices they’ve made, just for us to survive, so who am I to complain? I have a duty to do if I’m endangered, don’t I? Even if I do work up the courage to ask Rachael what she feels, even if she feels the same way, I’m not sure I can betray my people…”

Nick was frowning, his muzzle pressed against his chest, not staring at Laughing nor at the tears that now dribbled in a steady stream off the tip of the coyote’s nose.

“Cause that’s what it is, right? A betrayal if I love someone outside my species. The tribes treat it that way, I mean, many coyotes have had relationships outside The People, but then they get ostracized, shunned, cut off from the community, and I’m not sure my grandma would be able to stand it, or my mom, or even me. That’s why I didn’t want them to hear any of this. My mom and Ma-Ma, I mean. I feel both proud and ashamed to be a Person, you know? It’s a big part of me, and would I be willing to give all that up, to give up that part of me, to risk a relationship? What can I do?”

He looked up toward the sky, stars faintly visible through the haze of the streetlight.

“I’ve been asking the ancestors, and the spirits, and they haven’t been talking. I’ve even visited Badger Butte, which is a sacred site to The People, and stood there for an hour or so, waiting for a sign. And all I got was a cold. I’ve even been tempted to try one of Mom’s ‘shrooms, hoping that some of her jabbering about visions could actually be true.”

He put his face back down into his paws.

“I saw you yesterday, and then on the news, and thought this might be the sign I was looking for. I was hoping you could tell me, since you’ve tried this path before. Ma’s had more males live with her after you, but I’ve always trusted you, and when you showed up tonight…”

“Well, I appreciate the confidence, Laffie, but foxes aren’t endangered. We aren’t numerous, but buddy, I admit I’ve never been in your situation. I’m sorry, I don’t have any good advice to give.”

Laughing no longer seemed concerned about hiding their situation from his mother, as he now wept, silently, facedown, hugging his knees.

Nick knew she was there before he even turned. By this point they could read each other’s body language as if they had spoken aloud. He arched an eyebrow. _Why am I not surprised you’re here?_ He flicked a glance at her erect ears. _You heard everything, didn’t you?_

Judy looked straight back at him, eyes glistening, one ear flicking casually. _Yeah, and I don’t see you complaining about it._

Point there. He flicked his tail to the coyote softly shivering into his legs, almost curled up into a ball. _Help._

An eye roll. _Males._ Then she strode up to Laughin and placed a paw on his shoulder.

“Hi Sweetie,” she smiled gently, her own eyes brimming with empathy. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted some privacy, but I overhead … some… of what you said, and I know you’re carrying a heavy burden.”

She sat down next to Laughing, and Nick adjusted his stance to block the view of the car, his shadow from the headlights falling over the two mammals on the curb.

The coyote did not lift his head up from his knees.

“Being a bunny and all, I’m not going to even pretend I have any idea what you’re going through. I mean, my species isn’t even close to being endangered-“ Now it was Nick’s turn to roll his eyes—“ but I do know something about being treated a certain way because of my species, and I just wanted to share a little something about that.”

Laughin was still crying, but was now completely silent.

“The important thing to remember is that your species never defines who _you_ are or _what_ you can be. You are a coyote and always will be, but just because you’re a coyote does not mean you must be forced to act, live, or even love, a certain way.”

Everyone was silent as she considered her own words.

“You need to decide who _you_ are, first. Yes, you’re part of an endangered species, and that is a part of you, but it’s not all of _you_. You have to decide what is right for _you_ , even if you feel that your _species_ might disapprove. You can try to live your life to please others, or conform to their expectations, but I feel life is a little too short, too fragile, to use it like that.”

She touched his shoulder cautiously. “You’re the only one who can decide what being a coyote means to you. Whether being endangered is so important to you that you risk becoming a mate in a rushed, loveless relationship. Personally, I’m not sure your ancestors fought so hard so that miserable and unloved kits can be brought in the world by parents barely older than kits themselves. Maybe there’s another way, a way that only you can discover. If you decide that helping your species is an important part of who you are, then I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to help that you haven’t even yet realized.”

She fell silent, and Nick heard absolute silence. The coyote had stopped crying, but still kept his head down. She closed her eyes, surprised at herself and at the words emerging, unbidden, from inside.

“And if it turns out that being with a member of another species is what makes you happy, and that other person is also happy, then so be it. Maybe you can adopt a coyote kit. Maybe bringing a kit into the world isn’t the most important step in growing the coyote population. The really important part starts after that. Maybe someday you will find the right animal to help you with something like that.”

She had always considered herself open-minded, and the world kept revealing sides to existence she hadn’t even imagined, much less considered. An hour ago she had thought that interspecies relationships were the unnatural refuge for social failures. She was now a bit ashamed of that attitude, realizing that some endangered species may not have much choice.

Laughin seemed to be considering what she said. Not agreeing. Considering. Then he spoke quietly.

“So far I haven’t been a big help to my species. Heck, it’s my fault my little brother fell out of the building yesterday. Mom had gone out to the store and I was alone, supposed to keep my eye on him, but then the fire started, and the walls ripped off, and I panicked and didn’t watch him waddling…”

His voice hitched, and he fought to keep it under control.

“You’re Judy Hopps, right? You and Mr. Wilde saved my little brother. Thanks. I just feel like such a helpless screw up. Can’t even help myself, much less my little brother.”

Judy hugged him around the shoulder. “You’re still here for your family. Seems like you’re doing just fine. At least once we take care with what’s frightening your mom.”

Still looking down, the coyote hugged Judy back, head hanging over her shoulder. He sniffed, and a puzzled expression briefly scuttled across his face, but then he settled in, closed his eyes, and the small trickle of tears began again. Judy automatically closed her eyes and awkwardly patted his back.

“Wiley,” he said.

Judy stiffened under his embrace, flicking her eyes open, and Nick sharpened his attention.

“You don’t have to say anything, sweetie,” Judy said.

“I know. I want to.”

“Wiley? Your uncle?”

“Yeah. He told Mom something that scared her to death, and we’ve been running ever since.”

“What’d he say?”

“I don’t know,” he said, steeling himself up for what to say next. “He’s a ‘shroom farmer”.

“A farmer?” Judy said. “So he lives outside Zootopia?”

“No, no,” he said, a “mushroom farmer grows them in dark, damp locations, easy enough to do in Zootopia. I think Uncle Wiley tried to find abandoned buildings or really run-down apartments—places that no one really bothered to check out but which he could still lock up.”

“And this whole thing has to do with his farming?”

“Don’t know if it’s about his farming or something he found out while farming.”

“Any idea how to get a hold of him?”

“He switches phone numbers all the time. Paranoid guy. But I know where he likes to hang out.”

“Where?”

The coyote laughed mirthlessly.

“Actually, he’s actually knows Rachael, and my mother doesn’t, ‘cause he hangs out all the time at The Last Dance, the place I told you about in the Nocturnal District. Once you guys fix all this, and when I ask Rachael on a first date, I think I’m gonna take her there. After 4pm this time.”

And with that he closed his eyes, shuddered out a deep sigh, and then breathed quietly, slowly damming up the flow of his tears.

Judy felt the wetness growing on her shoulder, but found her gaze drawn instead to Nick. Silhouetted by the distant headlights of their cruiser, his con-man mask was back on, his expression now inscrutable. But even with the halo of diffuse light surrounding him, she saw the intensity of his green eyes boring directly into hers. Her memories of her “vision,” Sage’s “gift”, were already fading and blurring, but she still remembered very clearly how she had imagined Nick.

The Sun.

At first, she thought the association had come from his bright reddish-orange fur, but now, as his eyes flared and just looked at her with such _intensity_ , she felt the heat of his gaze burn on her and through her. She tried to meet his stare, but it was too much, just like staring into the sun, so she surrendered, closing her eyes, clutching the sniveling kit, and letting Nick’s fiery gaze engulf her under the yellow haze of the flickering streetlamp.

* * *

Sorry for the long delay. Insert typical real-life excuse here.

Four days ago, while running, I finally figured out the end to this story. From the beginning I had a rough idea of the climax and ending, but it was vague and unsatisfying. But now all is clear, and I really like it. Now I just have to get there-I just have to make sure that I keep track of my juggling plotlines, oh yeah, keep writing it.

Thanks for persevering with this!

Judy was listless. It was not a feeling she was used to having, and was not a feeling she wanted to experience again anytime soon. She slumped in the passenger seat of the cruiser, head resting against the side window, unable to even muster the energy to be annoyed by the bickering between the car’s two other occupants.

“You are not going to arrest me.”

“Too late. Already happened.”

“I cannot risk going to jail.”

“You should’ve thoughta that before you tried to kill a police officer.”

“I was just trying to get away. I was scared.”

“Not an excuse, Sage, for shoving a dangerous drug into my partner’s face.”

“My grandmother cannot care for my children by herself.”

“You sure seemed ready to let her try when you were sneaking out the back window by yourself!”

O.K., maybe the bickering was getting a _little_ annoying. Her phone beeped an alert. Grateful for the distraction, she pulled up the screen and saw that Peter’s app had finished downloading. Activating the icon on the home screen, she was startled, then amused, by a goofy caricature of her new friend that popped up over a blank blue background. Little word balloons popped up:

“Hello, Officer Hopps! I’ve whipped together all census and address data on the Zootopia coyote population<footnote>. When you look up an individual, the app can extract all known addresses over the past twenty years<footnote>, as well as link to all family connections by both biology, marriage, and common-law residency <footnote>. I put this together pretty quickly, so sorry in advance if it erases your phone. Just kidding (I hope)! Good luck and prepare to enjoy the power of recordkeeping!”

Out of curiosity Judy tapped on the first footnote:

“By ‘population’ I mean all individuals that have been documented to have at least 25% DNA designated as Canis latrans, based on birth certificate form Z-15X submitted by the hospital at birth. Records are restricted to individuals that have resided at least six or more weeks over the past 20 years within districts officially designated as being under the jurisdiction of the City of Zootopia. These districts include the following…”

A particularly urgent edge to Sage’s voice snapped Judy back into the war of words in the cruiser.

“Putting me in jail will put the children in danger.”

“I really, really, really, wanna think that you’re worried about your kids, but I’ve known you for a long time, and I’m not buying your dedicated mother act here. You’re not exactly a forward thinker.”

“You don’t really know me, or what we’re going through. You left a long time ago.”

Earlier this evening Judy had mentally accepted the surprising revelation that Nick and the drug addict coyote in the backseat had been in a relationship. But now the emotional weight of that knowledge was starting to sink in, as she sensed the undertones of the argument wafting back and forth between the front and back seat. The argument felt almost routine, as if it were a tradition that had been repeated many times before, by two animals that, through much practice, had learned how to most effectively get under each other’s skins. Only now was Judy truly beginning to accept, deep down, that these two had been in a past relationship. She mustered all her strength to cut off Nick’s tart reply.

“How are the children going to be in danger, Ms. Water? Is it just that they’d be alone with their grandmother?”

A noticeable hesitation.

“Yes, my mother-in-law is very old and cannot take care of a toddler for long. It exhausts her. She can no longer see well—she’s nearly blind.”

“Watercress Moonshadow seemed to see well enough when I was talking to her in the apartment just a little while ago,” muttered Nick.

“You might have two eyes, but you’re blinder than she is.”

“Don’t start on one of your ‘vision’ lectures with me, you mushroom-munching-“

“Actually, she might have a point,” Judy interrupted, hoisting herself up in her seat. “About her mother-in-law having a hard time seeing, I mean. Isn’t that Laughing Water leading Ms. Moonshadow right up there?”

A few minutes earlier, when Nick had returned with the cruiser to pick up the two handcuffed females, Judy had had to argue once again not to go directly to the hospital, but to first gather up the rest of the Water family. Instead of flooring it back to the apartment, she had insisted that the cruiser spiral in around and toward the building, in case the rest family had also decided to flee. Nick had grumbled, but finally relented when he saw how adamant she was, and when she made the always sacred “cross my heart and hope to die” promise to go to the hospital afterwards.

And now their roundabout approach seemed to have paid off, for up in the headlights they saw two figures huddling against the wall of one of the many anonymous tenant buildings in the Meadowlands. Two pairs of golden eyes caught the car beams and reflected in the darkness. Nick activated his brights and threw Laughing Water and Watercress in stark relief. The young teenager had his grandmother’s hand and clearly seemed to be trying to lead her down a side alley. Judy saw a little bundle strapped across Laughing’s back and realized that the toddler Singing Water was also with them, completing the family portrait.

Nick turned on his flashing lights, but didn’t activate the siren. Laughing tried to urge his grandmother to move faster into the alley, but the old woman seemed to be channeling a sloth as she grimly and fiercely padded down the sidewalk into the dark opening, staring straight ahead, firmly gripping her grandson’s paw for guidance, large sunglasses perched incongruously on her muzzle in the inky darkness. Street lamps were clearly not a big priority out here.

“Looks like your son’s trying to guide her,” Judy remarked over her shoulder. “He seems pretty loyal to his grandma.”

“Yeah, he didn’t just sneak out the window and leave her,” snarked the fox.

“My mother-in-law can take care of herself; I’m surprised you could forget that,” muttered Sage from behind the grilled back seat. “Go remind yourself; why don’t you go try to bully her around?”

Nick already had the door open and was half-out before Judy even had the chance to crack hers. Framed in the car lights, the old coyote seemed to sense a worthy opponent approaching, and slowly pivoted toward the headlights, despite the urgent tugs in the other direction provided by Laughing Water.

Feeling as week as a newborn kit, Judy collapsed back into her seat and watched the two adversaries approach. Watercress lifted her muzzle and perked her ears as Nick approached, speaking. She shoved her muzzle up in the air disdainfully, lips curled into a snarl, mirroring Nick’s expression. Clearly, no love lost between these two.

Judy took advantage of the moment to turn around and peer at Sage through the grille. Oddly enough, she found she didn’t share Nick’s anger with the scruffy coyote, even though she had been the one on the receiving end of her mischief. Perhaps because it was that she didn’t have the energy to get angry, but she also couldn’t help feel some sympathy for her situation, even though she knew Nick would frown at her naïve faith in people.

“Ms. Water, I do believe you’re scared for your family, but I don’t think it’s us you’re scared of. We’ve been looking for you because we’re following a tip that yesterday’s fire at your former apartment might have been set deliberately because you were living there.”

Sage said nothing, but Judy could see the golden gleam of her eyes flashing behind the grille.

“We’ve also been told that this might have something to do with your brother, Wiley. We’re actually trying to help you. Has someone been threatening your family?”

“The police can’t help, you can’t help, no one can help,” Sage said sadly. “You saw the vision. They’re everywhere and have a hold of everybody. By coming here you’re only helping them find us.”

“Who’s them, Ms. Water?”

Sage shook her head silently. “Please, please just let us go and leave us be. We’re already going to have to leave this place with my mother-in-law and find somewhere else. You’ve done enough damage. Please don’t do anything-“

Something jolted the cruiser, prompting the bunny to swerve around. To her surprise, she found herself staring into Nick’s eyes. Her partner was sprawled facedown on top of the hood, looking a bit surprised himself. Standing just in front of the car, paws clenched, was Laughing Water, snarling. Glaring at Nick, the young coyote slipped off his little brother’s wrap and handed it to Watercress, who duly turned around and headed back into the alley.

Judy saw a bead of blood well up on Nick’s lips. Unconsciously, the red fox licked the drop up with his tongue. His quick expression of shock quickly flashed into anger, and Nick shoved himself off the hood, whipping himself around to face Laughing, who had positioned himself between his grandmother and a fuming Nick.

The young rabbit felt a surge of energy pulse through her as her own anger grew. What were these animals thinking? They were trying to help them, for crying out loud! She shoved open her door just as Laughing tackled her partner again, driving Nick’s legs against the front grill. Although only a teenager, Laughing had a hefty build and seemed to use his momentum well. Nick glanced down at the ground and saw his precious sunglasses, cracked, on the pavement. He growled furiously.

“All right, kid, guess you don’t remember me. How I helped you out when you were little? You really wanna be arrested? Fine, have it your way,” he hissed, whipping out his handcuffs and plowing into the young canine, driving him away from the car and fifteen feet backward against a wall. Judy heard the slight “whoosh” of air being forced out of Laughing’s lungs by the impact.

Judy slammed the door shut and began walking, unsteadily at first, toward the fighting mammals, determined to break up the fight.

“Back, carrots,” barked Nick, as he roughly flipped the young man around and cuffed his claws behind his back. Oddly, the coyote was no longer snarling or fighting. Instead, he was glancing cautiously over his shoulder toward the car, squinting against the headlights.

“My mom in there?” he asked.

“Yeah, and you’re going to join her-“ Nick began, but wasn’t able to finish, because at that moment Laughing tossed his head back against Nick’s and wormed his way out from the fox’s grip. He then began running down the street away from the car and the grandmother, hands still cuffed behind him.

Judy ran after him, but felt like she was swimming through molasses.

“Stay put, Carrots,” barked Nick sharply, as he overtook her easily, holding what seemed to be a bleeding snout. “You’re hurt, remember?” He then turned and disappeared into the gloom after the rapidly retreating figure.

“Nick,” she tried to warn him, but her lungs were too weak to generate more than a weak squeak. What her partner was doing, without backup, was dangerous and against ZPD procedures. It felt odd to be, for once, the one warning her partner about being impulsive and not taking risks. But at the moment, she couldn’t do much about anything. So, keeping her sensitive ears trained down the street to track the sounds of the pursuit, she turned her attention to Watercress, easily spotting the old predator’s outline in the dark alley behind their vehicle. She ambled after the stooped outline.

“Hello…. Grandmother,” Judy said, trying to imitate Nick’s cadence and tone he had used around the coyote elders early that morning (Cheese and crackers, was that really only this morning?). “I’m Judy Hopps with the ZPD, and believe it or not, we’re only trying to help out…”

“Yes, I know who you are, Officer _rabbit,”_ Watercress said, slowing down and turning her sunglassed gaze toward Judy. “You helped save my grandson yesterday. Thank you for that.”

The unexpected complement threw Judy for a moment. “Well, you’re welcome. I take it that’s the little fella slung over your back? Is he recovering OK?”

“The young can survive just about anything,” the old coyote nodded philosophically, “it is the old that have difficulty coping with the great trials of life. But yes, the little one seems to be sleeping soundly around this craziness that seems all too normal for my daughter.”

“It is not safe out here for both old and young, grandmother. May I take you back to the car to sit with your daughter until my partner returns? You’re not in trouble or under arrest, or anything like that.”

“And what about my daughter?”

“Well, I’m trying to avoid arresting her, but she’s really tempting my partner.”

“Ah yes, Munches rides again.” Watercress muzzle seemed to struggle between a snarl and a smile as she removed her sunglasses. Judy was startled to see her eyes were completely white, clouded over with cataracts.

“No offense, ma’am, but how could you even tell who I was?”

“Smell. We used to eat your kind, so our noses seem to be able pick out the smallest hint of your presence. I’ve been told it is rude to say things like that, but frankly I’m too old to care anymore. Our history has been so entwined with your species that we can almost smell what you’re thinking—certainly what you’re feeling. Happy, sad, scared, nervous, and –“, she paused significantly, “excited.”

A mortification that Judy had only just started to tamp down flared up again.

“Oh, yes, embarrassment too,” the ancient matron added absently, nodding to herself.

“Yeah, well your daughter hit me with her …hobby, and I had a pretty intense dream, or I guess ‘vision’, as your daughter would say.”

“Yes, she likes to disguise her mushroom addiction as a religious experience. Well, Ms. Rabbit, I’m scenting that you must have had a very, um, _pleasant_ and _intense_ experience. Any Person who’s not a completely senile moron would certainly smell any rabbit that’s in the _mood_ you’re in. In fact, would probably smell that happy rabbit up to half a mile away. Very strong scent. Don’t think you’d be able to run away from any of the The People in the old times.”

“Good thing I’ve no interest in running, then.” Ears still burning slightly, she plunged on. “And since I’m clearly not hiding anything from you, perhaps you could return the favor and not hide anything from me. We have reason to believe that yesterday’s building fire that nearly killed your grandson might be related to something going on with your family—maybe Sage’s brother? Wiley?”

Ms. Moonshadow shook her head slowly. “I wish I could trust you, Officer Rabbit. I smell your sincerity, but you are police, and my daughter says that police already came by her apartment just a few days ago, also trying to find her brother.”

“What?” Judy exclaimed. “Police? As in ZPD?”

“You’ll have to ask her yourself. All I’ve been told by my daughter is that her troublemaker brother saw something he was not supposed to, and now she and her children are in trouble. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that trouble involved the police. Which is why I am going to take my grandkits and disappear from anyone wearing your uniform as soon as possible. Especially if you do end up arresting my daughter.”

Judy opened her muzzle to respond, but then her ears twitched. A familiar voice was coming over her radio.

“Officer Hopps, Officer Wilde, please respond.”

She quickly fumbled the hand mic into her paw. “Hopps here.”

“Carrots, sorry to ask this of ya, but I’m gonna need you to bring the car.”

The cruiser pulled up by two figures along the sidewalk, one standing, one prone on the ground, two blocks down from where they had initially pulled up. After checking that Sage, Watercress, and little Singing Water were all nestled safely in the back seat (with the toddler snoozing peacefully on Sage’s chest), Judy slipped out and joined her partner, who looked both exasperated and pensive as he glowered at the figure on the ground.

“Tranq’d him, huh?” the rabbit nodded knowingly. “That’ll be another mound of paperwork for you to fill out later.”

Nick groaned, dabbing a cloth on the slight trickle of blood from his lips. “Well, was the only way I was going to stop him. Tried to use the lightest dose I –“ he stopped as the figure on the ground moaned and shifted position. “Guess the kid is bigger than what I guessed for the dosage. He’s coming to now.” He bent over, checked the cuffs, and raised the kit into a slumped sitting position. Laughing Water looked at the two officers blurrily, shook his head, and then yawned. As he tried to raise his paws to scratch his nose, he realized they were cuffed. The look of shock was quickly replaced by comprehension.

Judy leaned over. “Hello there. Do you remember your name and today’s date?”

The young coyote nodded, but before he could respond further, her partner interrupted brusquely.

“Laughing Water, you have the right to remain silent—“

“Actually, sir” said Laughing calmly, “I needed to talk with you, but away from MaMa and Mom.” Gone was the aggression, and he talked casually, even with his paws cuffed behind him. “So I kinda needed to put up a scene to get some space away from them. They both in the car right now?”

Judy nodded, perplexed. Nonplussed yet suspicious, Nick hauled the young coyote up and pressed him against the wall, legs spread apart. “Again, you have the right to remain—“

“Mr. Wilde, I just wanted to ask you for some advice.”

Both the fox and the rabbit froze in place, and Judy’s ears flipped up straight and alert, focused on the coyote.

“Advice?” Nick repeated dumbly. “You sucker punched me in order to _talk_?”

“Don’t want my mom to hear this, or poor Ma-Ma either. Can you shove me against the wall one more time, so it looks like you’re fighting me? They’re probably watching from the car.”

Nick backed away from the wall, paws in the air, looking utterly confused for a moment, an expression Judy was sure she shared at that moment. The two partners looked at each other, mouths slightly open. Years of con-mammal experience led Nick to recover faster, and he managed to croak, “what kinda advice?”

“I wanna ask you— umm, Officer Wilde, some advice about females.”

“You want to ask me. About girls.” Nick deadpanned, thrown completely off guard, a moment that Judy knew she was going to have to commit to memory and savor at some later time. A laugh began working its way up from her chest, and a new vitality coursed through her body, her sluggish senses stirring to at least a partial alertness. It had been quite the couple of days—she’d now seen her partner knocked off his guard at least three times. She told herself she was a hypocrite—she was enjoying Nick getting embarrassed, so soon after her own recent embarrassment—but her quiet self-chiding couldn’t stop her from feeling much better regardless.

“Listen, Laffie,” Nick muttered, “I’ve got an injured partner I’ve got to take to the hospital, I’ve just had to arrest your mom, and your delightful grandma is probably trying to put a curse on me behind my back right now. You’ve given me a haymaker to my jaw, and I’m this close to giving you one back, even though I liked you when you were younger. Guess what I’m trying to say is that now is really not the time. Common Carrots, let’s get him in the car and you to the ER.”

“Yeah, I can tell what mood you’re in,” Laughing said wryly, “but turns out you’re the closest thing to a – maybe not a father, but a trusted adult - that I have. Kinda lame, huh?” he added, with a touch of classic teenage self-pity. “Says a lot about my life to even have to ask you about this.” The youngster tried to steal a glance over his shoulder. “Look, just rough me up and walk me a little ways away, and maybe you can spare just a few minutes?”

She saw Nick working his jaw in frustration.

“Look, kid, we gotta get my partner –“

“Actually, Officer Wilde, I think I might be able to cling to life just a _little_ longer.” She barely managed to put her most earnest, pleading expression on her face, fighting back a teasing grin that threatened to burst forth at any moment. “This young man clearly needs some assistance, and we at the ZPD are here to help serve the public, aren’t we?”

Emerald eyes swung onto her, narrowing dangerously.

“And it would be a shame if you couldn’t pass on your _abundant_ expertise about females to the needy.”

Shooting her a squint that promised retribution later, Nick then ran a paw down his muzzle and huffed a resigned breath.

“Look Laffie, I’ve been told-“ another glare at Judy—“ I’m not exactly the best source of advice when it comes to –this sorta thing.”

“Well, you’re better than my Mom.”

“Thanks for the ringing endorsement. Well, O.K., what’s eating you? Metaphorically, I mean,” he quickly added, awkwardly glancing at Judy, to her amusement.

“Er, ma’am? Mind if I talk with Mr. –Officer Wilde, here alone?”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ll let you have your little heart-to-heart talk. I’ll head back over to the cruiser and wait there. Good luck, partner.” She strode off as Nick dragged Laughing further down the street towards a dim dilapidated streetlight, only half-pretending to cuff the youngster alongside the head.

Judy reached the cruiser, opened the door, and cracked the window, but despite a lingering exhaustion, she kept herself standing outside, leaning against the car like a teenager loitering in front of a drugstore, able to hear the radio through the cracked window. The fresh air would do her some good. And if her hypersensitive ears happened to point toward the two figures in the distance, and if she was able to accidently hear what was going on, since the car was turned off—well, she had warned Nick this morning that although her mama had tried, she hadn’t raised a saint, and she wasn’t going to miss what was about to happen for the world.

* * *

_

“O.K., spill it.”

“So,” Laughing rubbed his arm nervously, “as soon as I heard that a fox saved my baby brother, I somehow knew it would be you. Do you remember me at all?”

Nick’s face relaxed. “Of course I do, kid. I’ve actually thought about you off and on over the years. I felt bad for you, and even thought about checking up on you and your mom once I became an officer.”

“Well, why didn’t you?”

“Because for me good intentions usually don’t pan out into good deeds. I’m the first to admit that I’ve been pretty self-centered, and while I’ve thought about you, I told myself I’d never be able to find you and your mom again after she moved away. Maybe I would’ve, may I wouldn’t of, but I never ended up actually trying. Not proud of it, and I’m sorry about it, but there you go. You want my advice; you need to know the kind of guy you’re getting it from. So what did you want to ask?”

The young coyote looked down at his shuffling feet, clearly working up the nerve to say something.

Nick had had plenty of practice setting people at their ease, and without even thinking about it he slouched nonchalantly against the lampost, posture drooping, having all the time in the world—“Glad to see that you don’t seem to be on the ‘shrooms. At least you don’t seem to have that hollow-eyed look I’ve seen in others. Am I right?”

Laughing nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah. I remember you warning me back then, and I’ve seen what it’s done to my mom, so yeah, no way I’ve gotten near the stuff. I’m even doing pretty well in school,” he added, with a hint of pride. “Or at least I was, until we’ve started running around.”

“Well, good for you. You’re doing better than I was at your age. So this female—or are we going to be talking about males? All well and good with me with that, by the way,” the fox added worldly, “no judgments here.”

“No, no,” sputtered the youngster. “It’s girls. A girl, I mean.”

“Mmmmm.”

A moment of awkward silence that drew on long enough that Nick could hear crickets off in the distance.

“Soooo…”

“Well, I was wondering—why did you leave my mom? Didn’t you like her?”

“Ermmm… I thought you wanted advice about females. By females did you mean your mother?”

“Yeah, I mean, no! I’ve actually met this female at school, see.”

“So, why are you asking about your mother and me?”

“This female—she’s a wolf. Gray wolf.”

Nick found himself glancing over his shoulder back at Judy a couple hundred feet away. His partner was staring at her phone, and not at them. He straightened up and instinctively stood with his back toward the rabbit, blocking her view of the coyote.

“You’re wondering about interspecies relationships.”

“Yeah.”

“And me and your mom are the only one you know about.”

“Yeah, don’t know of any other, at least, no one else seems willing to admit it.”

“This is a lot of meat to strip off the bone, buddy. You saw how our relationship ended.”

“Yeah, I know, and that’s what I want to know. Why did you even start it? And why did you stop? Was it because you two were too different? Or something else?”

Now it was Nick’s turn to scuff the ground, working out what to say.

“My mom, she once told me that she met you because you helped fight off three antelope trying to hurt her. That true?”

“Well, fight is not exactly the word I’d use.”

“Yeah, she said you pretended to be a police officer and scared them away.”

A faint clatter caused both of them to turn around and glance at Judy, who had accidently dropped her phone. Nick narrowed his eyes suspiciously and turned back toward Laughing, lowering his voice.

“Actually, she didn’t tell you the truth because you were pretty young. I never would have tried faking a police officer back then, because no one would have believed me. I actually pretended to be her pimp, and demanded that they either pay up or leave the merchandise alone. I figured they were tightwads, and turns out they were.” He blew out his cheeks. “So not the most romantic start, kid. You know what a pimp is, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda been weaned a long time,” the coyote said dryly. “So my mom also once said you had a thing about women being bullied, and so you blundered into the situation.”

“Yeah, maybe so. I’ve been foolish that way from time to time,” Nick said, now uncomfortably and acutely aware of a certain bunny’s presence far behind him, a bunny he had also once stood up for against a group of males, not too long ago in Tujunga Lane in the Rainforest District.

“So why did you stick with her?”

“Look kid, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you also deserve honesty. When we first met, we recognized that we could help each other. She had a roof over her head, and I had a certain –ability—to raise cash. So we were more of a business partnership than a real relationship.” Something in Laughin’s drooping ears prompted him to blurt, “But I really did like you. The best thing about the relationship, honestly, was the feeling I was there to help you out, even if just for a little bit.”

“I guess I understand why you would have left,” Laughing said hesitantly, “but still, even now, it hurts. And even though my mom never admits it, I think she actually felt something for you.”

Nick’s guilty silence settled around both of them.

“Yeah, I think she did too, at least at the beginning. But it was never a healthy relationship, and in the end I figured it was better for everyone to, well, end it.”

“Better for you, maybe.” The first hint of bitterness crept into the young coyote’s voice.

“Better for everyone,” Nick said firmly. “I made a deal with your grandma that she would take care of you if I left. Did she follow through on that promise?”

Laughing mulled over his memories. “Yeah, after you left Grandma made me move in with her for a couple of years. And since then she’s always made sure I’ve stayed in school. That your doing?”

Nick shrugged.

“So you felt nothing for my mom at all? She was just a meal ticket to you?”

Nick hesitated, searching his feelings. “I guess the strongest feeling I had, when I first met her, was pity. And young as I was at the time, I might have mistaken that for love. My pity lasted for a while.” He paused. “In a way, it still does. But that doesn’t excuse what she did to my partner tonight.”

“What did she do?”

“Sent Officer Hopps on a drug trip. No, don’t you dare smile,” Nick warned. “Could’ve killed her. Poor lady is such a straight shooter, she’s never touched anything illegal in her life: she can barely bring herself to get buzzed from a glass of beer. I can only imagine how blown her mind is right now.” Nick fought very hard to ignore the humor in the situation. He wouldn’t do that to Carrots. Not now, anyway. Change the subject.

“So, enough about me. Tell me about the Special One.”

“Her name’s Rachel. She’s got a grey pelt with cream-colored paws. She has one eye yellow and one eye blue, which she gets teased about but which I really like. She’s got black-tipped ears, a couple of spots on her coat, and her tail—“

“OK, OK, I don’t need a guided tour of her anatomy. I mean, what do you like about her?”

“Well, she knows that I’m a coyote, but doesn’t seem to care. We’ve been friends for a few years in high school—“

“How’d you become friends?”

“We both have a taste for unusual music. Folk or ethnic music, you could say. I’ve always loved the ancient songs and traditional instruments of my species, and I actually brought one of the old bone flutes my grandmother had to class one day, and she was all over it, and I played it for her, and well, I guess that’s how the friendship started. We actually go to clubs together.”

“At night? Her parents let her go?”

“Well, we go to the Nocturnal District right after school. That way we can go to the evening shows at 4pm in the afternoon. There’s this awesome place called The Last Dance, that specializes in rare and unusual music, usually from endangered species“, he paused awkwardly, “well, like myself.”

“Yeah, I know the place pretty well. So this Rachael, does she know about these feelings you have for her?”

“No, no, I’ve never told her. Maybe she suspects, but maybe I’m reading too much into it. But we text constantly, even late at night, and she keeps making me promise to take her to see some of The People’s seasonal dance ceremonies, and she asks what she should wear to something like that that would be ‘appropriate’. She’s always trying out some native piece of clothing as an accessory. Maybe she really is just excited about coyote culture, and not really so much… me.”

“Hhhmmm. And you haven’t worked up the nerve to find out.”

“No, I’m really scared about ruining my best friendship about something like that. I mean, hanging out with her was the bright spot of my day and if it ended I’d be a wreck. I’m a wreck now. I don’t think you’d understand.”

“You’re not the first mammal to worry about confusing friendship with attraction,” Nick said sagely, “and you won’t be the last.”

“But, things seemed to be building up to a head, without my really trying. We have a school dance coming up, and when I’ve asked her about it she’s admitted that a few other wolves have asked her, but that she hadn’t been interested. And then, three weeks ago, she mentioned out of the blue that no one had asked her yet, so I was starting to wonder. And then, all -- this—began.”

“You mean, your mom got scared, took you out of school and your home, and now you’ve been hightailing it all over Zootopia.”

“Yeah, and I know it’s wrong to be angry over it when my mom is so clearly scared, but I can’t help but keep thinking about whether Rachel still remembers me. I mean, the dance is only a week from now, and it’s eating me up from inside…” He sniffed quietly. “You once told me, just before you left, that you should never them see that they get to you, and I’ve tried so hard to follow your advice…”

“I’ve mellowed on that attitude over time,” Nick said. “You have to eventually open up to people or you end up trapped inside.”

It was almost as if Nick had given some form of implicit permission, and a tear began rolling down the coyote’s muzzle. He sank down and sat on the curb.

“But it’s not just that, that I may never even get a chance. It’s all the guilt.”

“Guilt?”

“I’m a coyote. An endangered species. We keep shrinking in population. I know personally all the others of my generation. Do you know what that means, what it’s like, to live every day knowing that you’re one of the last of your kind? When all your elders are putting such pressure on you to, you know….”

“I remember that arranged marriages are a thing among The People.”

“Yeah, and everyone is so desperate to get us mated. But all the matches they keep trying to arrange—we’re all so closely related I feel like I’m being set up with my sisters, and they’re embarrassed, and I’m embarrassed, and we’re all feeling guilty about it. We might not feel a hint of attraction for each other, but there’s all these generations of ancestors, all these sacrifices they’ve made, just for us to survive, so who am I to complain? I have a duty to do if I’m endangered, don’t I? Even if I do work up the courage to ask Rachael what she feels, even if she feels the same way, I’m not sure I can betray my people…”

Nick was frowning, his muzzle pressed against his chest, not staring at Laughing nor at the tears that now dribbled in a steady stream off the tip of the coyote’s nose.

“Cause that’s what it is, right? A betrayal if I love someone outside my species. The tribes treat it that way, I mean, many coyotes have had relationships outside The People, but then they get ostracized, shunned, cut off from the community, and I’m not sure my grandma would be able to stand it, or my mom, or even me. That’s why I didn’t want them to hear any of this. My mom and Ma-Ma, I mean. I feel both proud and ashamed to be a Person, you know? It’s a big part of me, and would I be willing to give all that up, to give up that part of me, to risk a relationship? What can I do?”

He looked up toward the sky, stars faintly visible through the haze of the streetlight.

“I’ve been asking the ancestors, and the spirits, and they haven’t been talking. I’ve even visited Badger Butte, which is a sacred site to The People, and stood there for an hour or so, waiting for a sign. And all I got was a cold. I’ve even been tempted to try one of Mom’s ‘shrooms, hoping that some of her jabbering about visions could actually be true.”

He put his face back down into his paws.

“I saw you yesterday, and then on the news, and thought this might be the sign I was looking for. I was hoping you could tell me, since you’ve tried this path before. Ma’s had more males live with her after you, but I’ve always trusted you, and when you showed up tonight…”

“Well, I appreciate the confidence, Laffie, but foxes aren’t endangered. We aren’t numerous, but buddy, I admit I’ve never been in your situation. I’m sorry, I don’t have any good advice to give.”

Laughing no longer seemed concerned about hiding their situation from his mother, as he now wept, silently, facedown, hugging his knees.

Nick knew she was there before he even turned. By this point they could read each other’s body language as if they had spoken aloud. He arched an eyebrow. _Why am I not surprised you’re here?_ He flicked a glance at her erect ears. _You heard everything, didn’t you?_

Judy looked straight back at him, eyes glistening, one ear flicking casually. _Yeah, and I don’t see you complaining about it._

Point there. He flicked his tail to the coyote softly shivering into his legs, almost curled up into a ball. _Help._

An eye roll. _Males._ Then she strode up to Laughin and placed a paw on his shoulder.

“Hi Sweetie,” she smiled gently, her own eyes brimming with empathy. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted some privacy, but I overhead … some… of what you said, and I know you’re carrying a heavy burden.”

She sat down next to Laughing, and Nick adjusted his stance to block the view of the car, his shadow from the headlights falling over the two mammals on the curb.

The coyote did not lift his head up from his knees.

“Being a bunny and all, I’m not going to even pretend I have any idea what you’re going through. I mean, my species isn’t even close to being endangered-“ Now it was Nick’s turn to roll his eyes—“ but I do know something about being treated a certain way because of my species, and I just wanted to share a little something about that.”

Laughin was still crying, but was now completely silent.

“The important thing to remember is that your species never defines who _you_ are or _what_ you can be. You are a coyote and always will be, but just because you’re a coyote does not mean you must be forced to act, live, or even love, a certain way.”

Everyone was silent as she considered her own words.

“You need to decide who _you_ are, first. Yes, you’re part of an endangered species, and that is a part of you, but it’s not all of _you_. You have to decide what is right for _you_ , even if you feel that your _species_ might disapprove. You can try to live your life to please others, or conform to their expectations, but I feel life is a little too short, too fragile, to use it like that.”

She touched his shoulder cautiously. “You’re the only one who can decide what being a coyote means to you. Whether being endangered is so important to you that you risk becoming a mate in a rushed, loveless relationship. Personally, I’m not sure your ancestors fought so hard so that miserable and unloved kits can be brought in the world by parents barely older than kits themselves. Maybe there’s another way, a way that only you can discover. If you decide that helping your species is an important part of who you are, then I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to help that you haven’t even yet realized.”

She fell silent, and Nick heard absolute silence. The coyote had stopped crying, but still kept his head down. She closed her eyes, surprised at herself and at the words emerging, unbidden, from inside.

“And if it turns out that being with a member of another species is what makes you happy, and that other person is also happy, then so be it. Maybe you can adopt a coyote kit. Maybe bringing a kit into the world isn’t the most important step in growing the coyote population. The really important part starts after that. Maybe someday you will find the right animal to help you with something like that.”

She had always considered herself open-minded, and the world kept revealing sides to existence she hadn’t even imagined, much less considered. An hour ago she had thought that interspecies relationships were the unnatural refuge for social failures. She was now a bit ashamed of that attitude, realizing that some endangered species may not have much choice.

Laughin seemed to be considering what she said. Not agreeing. Considering. Then he spoke quietly.

“So far I haven’t been a big help to my species. Heck, it’s my fault my little brother fell out of the building yesterday. Mom had gone out to the store and I was alone, supposed to keep my eye on him, but then the fire started, and the walls ripped off, and I panicked and didn’t watch him waddling…”

His voice hitched, and he fought to keep it under control.

“You’re Judy Hopps, right? You and Mr. Wilde saved my little brother. Thanks. I just feel like such a helpless screw up. Can’t even help myself, much less my little brother.”

Judy hugged him around the shoulder. “You’re still here for your family. Seems like you’re doing just fine. At least once we take care with what’s frightening your mom.”

Still looking down, the coyote hugged Judy back, head hanging over her shoulder. He sniffed, and a puzzled expression briefly scuttled across his face, but then he settled in, closed his eyes, and the small trickle of tears began again. Judy automatically closed her eyes and awkwardly patted his back.

“Wiley,” he said.

Judy stiffened under his embrace, flicking her eyes open, and Nick sharpened his attention.

“You don’t have to say anything, sweetie,” Judy said.

“I know. I want to.”

“Wiley? Your uncle?”

“Yeah. He told Mom something that scared her to death, and we’ve been running ever since.”

“What’d he say?”

“I don’t know,” he said, steeling himself up for what to say next. “He’s a ‘shroom farmer”.

“A farmer?” Judy said. “So he lives outside Zootopia?”

“No, no,” he said, a “mushroom farmer grows them in dark, damp locations, easy enough to do in Zootopia. I think Uncle Wiley tried to find abandoned buildings or really run-down apartments—places that no one really bothered to check out but which he could still lock up.”

“And this whole thing has to do with his farming?”

“Don’t know if it’s about his farming or something he found out while farming.”

“Any idea how to get a hold of him?”

“He switches phone numbers all the time. Paranoid guy. But I know where he likes to hang out.”

“Where?”

The coyote laughed mirthlessly.

“Actually, he’s actually knows Rachael, and my mother doesn’t, ‘cause he hangs out all the time at The Last Dance, the place I told you about in the Nocturnal District. Once you guys fix all this, and when I ask Rachael on a first date, I think I’m gonna take her there. After 4pm this time.”

And with that he closed his eyes, shuddered out a deep sigh, and then breathed quietly, slowly damming up the flow of his tears.

Judy felt the wetness growing on her shoulder, but found her gaze drawn instead to Nick. Silhouetted by the distant headlights of their cruiser, his con-man mask was back on, his expression now inscrutable. But even with the halo of diffuse light surrounding him, she saw the intensity of his green eyes boring directly into hers. Her memories of her “vision,” Sage’s “gift”, were already fading and blurring, but she still remembered very clearly how she had imagined Nick.

The Sun.

At first, she thought the association had come from his bright reddish-orange fur, but now, as his eyes flared and just looked at her with such _intensity_ , she felt the heat of his gaze burn on her and through her. She tried to meet his stare, but it was too much, just like staring into the sun, so she surrendered, closing her eyes, clutching the sniveling kit, and letting Nick’s fiery gaze engulf her under the yellow haze of the flickering streetlamp.

* * *

Sorry for the long delay. Insert typical real-life excuse here.

Four days ago, while running, I finally figured out the end to this story. From the beginning I had a rough idea of the climax and ending, but it was vague and unsatisfying. But now all is clear, and I really like it. Now I just have to get there-I just have to make sure that I keep track of my juggling plotlines, oh yeah, keep writing it.

Thanks for persevering with this!


	10. Hopping Mad

**Happy New Year! I had no time to work on this over the holidays, but I’ve managed to get three chapters ready to feed out over the next two weeks. There are a few plot twists coming up, and I felt I should release the chapters in pretty short order in order not to lose readers (Cliffhangers suck if you have to wait months between posts). If anyone is still reading Zootopia fanfiction these days, I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Chief Bogo carefully squared away the paperwork on his otherwise spotless desk. Judy snuck a look around the office, but as far as she could tell nothing had been moved or replaced since they had last been three days ago. Only the clock had changed: it announced a relatively civilized 8 AM, and a bright blue sky sat framed in the window.

Judy was back in her oversized chair, while Nick sat in his usual position by the door, fresh uniform in place, fur groomed, and sitting at polite attention. Taking a day or two off had done wonders for his appearance. Not being hit by a drug trip probably had helped him too. Yet she frowned at his crisply creased trousers. Had he actually ironed his dry-cleaned pants? What was he worried about?

“I have some news to give you about the crane,” Bogo began, and then glowered at their blank expressions. “The crane. You know, the destruction of thousands of dollars of city property that started this little adventure and splashed Officer Wilde all over the internet? So sorry,” he said sarcastically, “I know three entire days have passed. I’m sure this potentially career-ending incident has probably slipped your minds.”

“Oh yes, the crane,” Judy smiled, buck-teeth gleaming. “Of course. It just seems it’s been months since that happened. Um, are things OK?”

Bogo raised his hoof while staring at a form. “Tell you what, I’m going to hold off on that until I understand everything that has happened so far. So, to refresh my memory-“ Bogo peered over another report sitting on his desk—“the last time we met I gave you two permission to hunt down your anonymous contact,” he snorted in distaste, “to find out what they knew about the apartment complex fire on Dromedary Ave three days ago.” He removed his reading glasses. “A terse sentence here states you made contact with this source, who provided you with a tip.” His gaze lingered on Wilde’s polite and disinterested expression. “So I suppose we will drop the question of this source’s identity for now.”

“Most magnanimous of you, sir,” said Nick.

“Only if this tip is actually a valid lead, of which I have my doubts,” murmured the bull. “This source, it seems, directed you to this coyote family hiding in the Meadowlands.”

“The Waters family, yes, sir,” Judy chirped. A couple day’s rest could do wonders for a rabbit’s health, although at the moment her diet was still restricted to well, cheese and crackers. “Though I don’t know whether they were really trying to _hide_ -“

“Then, on your own _initiative_ ,” interrupted Bogo, drawing out the last word distastefully, as if he were dangling a dirty diaper from his hoof, “you two decided to contact the family, which caused an incident that led to Officer Hopps’ hospitalization.” He turned to Judy expectantly.

“My partner and I felt that we needed to follow up on the tip before reporting in,” Judy continued. Nick was staring at the pattern on the rug, and she instinctively knew he was letting her take the lead. Thanks, partner.

“So what should have been a routine inquiry degenerated into a chase, after a 29-year old female coyote, Sagebrush Water, attempted to flee out the back window of the apartment.” Bogo kept staring at Judy. “Which brings up my first question. Why was it that Officer Wilde, and not you, the senior officer, initiated first contact with the family?”

Judy felt the trap set on the ground in front of her, and advanced cautiously. “As listed in the preliminary report, Officer Wilde had a previous acquaintance with the family, and we judged it would be best if he were the first one to approach-“

“Yes, this ‘previous acquaintance’,” Bogo rumbled. “Interesting how Officer Wilde neglected to mention this ‘previous acquaintance’ at our last meeting. I’ll return to that point in a moment. My to-do list seems to keep getting longer.” The bull flipped up a page of the report and scanned the contents, lips pursed. “I am more concerned at the moment about the medical situation. So a mammal of interest fled the scene, and you, Hopps, followed in pursuit.”

“Yes, sir, following standard procedure.”

A hoof raised into the air. “I have no issue with those decisions, Hopps, in principle. But I see here that you were exposed to a drug that was life-threatening, and that you still elected to pursue—“

“With all respect, sir, I had no idea that the mushroom powder Ms. Waters blew onto me was hallucinogenic, so I decided to continue the pursuit. I felt we could not afford to lose our only lead, sir.”

“And yet the lab report I have here shows that this powder does indeed have strong hallucinogenic properties, as well as other effects. I also see here that Officer Wilde, after some unexplained delay, had to take you to the hospital.” He turned to Nick, who sat uncharacteristically meek in the corner. “Care to elaborate on why you felt Hopps had to go to the hospital, and if so, why the delay?”

Despite his quietness Nick didn’t betray any nervousness or preoccupation.

“When I caught up with Officer Hopps after the chase, I noticed signs of disorientation and nausea, but no life-threatening symptoms, so after helping her secure the person of interest in the case, along with the family, as a precaution I requested that she and the family travel to the hospital together. Although Officer Hopps felt fine, she agreed to the visit out of an abundance of caution.” Judy appreciated that Nick had skirted over the vomiting and undressing part. She felt her ears warm slightly.

“Why take the family to the hospital?” Bogo turned back to Judy.

“I--We-were concerned the family might be a flight risk, and we wanted to finish talking to them, as well as check on the health of the various family members, before we released them. The youngest kit looked underweight, sir.”

“So you brought them in for medical reasons, out of the kindness of your heart, and not because of an arrest, since I see no citation or charge filed for this action.” The cape buffalo’s eyes bored into Judy’s neutral gaze. “Do you agree that the action of blowing this mushroom powder in your face could reasonably be construed as assault?”

“Theoretically, yes, sir.”

“Then if Miss Water is clearly guilty of assault on a police officer and possibly attempted murder, why don’t I see any charges entered here?”

“For the various reasons I outlined in the report, we decided that no charges should be filed in order to secure the cooperation of the family, and because we judged the intention of Sage was not murderous. We feel this decision is justified—we now have a lead on this Wiley Coyote, who seemed to be aware this firebombing was coming, and we believe the family has no further relevance to the arson case, which we judged to be the important priority.”

Bogo shifted back to Nick. “She keeps saying ‘We’. Do you agree with what she said, Wilde?”

_“I think you’re nuts! Or more likely, brain damaged from that damn drug, which is the only explanation I can come up with for why you’re not pressing charges against Sage. You know that family’s going to vanish off the face of the earth the second they leave the hospital, right?”_ _Judy rubbed her forehead tiredly with her paw, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, as Nick growled, actually growled, at her._

_“We’ve been over this, Nick. There’s no need to detain them. We’ve got the information we need about Wiley. I’m fine. No harm done, really.”_

_“No harm done? Just an attempted murder, no biggee? She tried to kill you! She knows what that stuff can do! And you’re just going to ignore that? I talked to the doctor, and he said-“_

_“--Had I decided to charge her, it would have swallowed the rest of the night and much of the morning to process, and hours of my time over the next several days processing an arraignment. Not to mention the hard straits it would have put the rest of her family in. I think her family is better off with her than without her, all things considered. So yeah, I decided not to press charges so we can move forward on the real focus of this investigation: the arson and the possible connection with Wiley.”_

_“Family better off with her…. You’ve got too much faith in people, Carrots. It’s a nice thing. Cu—charming, actually. But old cynical me, who’s got nearly ten years on you—I know that some animals are just a lost cause. I tried to help Sage for two years of my life, two years I ain’t getting back, and nothing changed back then, and nothing’s gonna change now. She’s never going to clean up her life or take care of herself. She’s going to just burden her mother-in-law, or end up hurting the kids or someone else innocent when she plunges back into her ‘shrooms. Maybe we should have put an end to that.”_

_“And throwing her into jail is going to make things better? There’s no hidden motive here in you wanting me to charge her, is there, Nick? You’re not going to let your past history affect what we do now, right?”_

_“Thanks for your faith in my professional judgment, Hopps,” growled Nick. “It just seems a bit off for Miss law-and-order to just shrug off attempted murder.“_

_“There’s a final reason, partner,” Judy said, after a moment of hesitation. “When I talked to Watercress, the grandmother, she mentioned that police had visited their apartment shortly before the arson.”_

_Nick narrowed his eyes before she had even finished speaking. Good fox. She was too tired to spell it out._

_“Let me guess. There’s no record or report of such a visit in the ZPD database, because I know you’ve already triple checked on the way over here. That’s probably why you were on your phone so much when I was driving you in. If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, well, first… “, he placed his hand over his rumpled uniform and lowered his eyes in mock sorrow, “let me take a moment to mourn the loss of your country bunny naiveté and optimism about the ZPD.”_

_“You took care of my naiveté my first day on the job, remember? -“ Judy started, but Nick cut her off with a swipe of the paw._

_“Have some respect for the deceased, ma’am,” he said soberly._

_“My optimism is still alive and kicking. But if it doesn’t hurt to be cautious, weeeell... “_

_The fox frowned. “OK, I can see where you’re coming from, but this all seems really flimsy. Those visitors might have been imposters and not real ZPD cops. You can dress up your decision in all sorts of excuses, Carrots, but take it from someone with a good nose: this stinks. I can only imagine what Bogo’s going to say about this. What in the world am I going to do, lie and say I think you made a good decision while coming down from a drug high?”_

* * *

“I concur with Officer Hopps’ decision, sir.” Nick smiled smoothly. “I agree that we need to keep our focus on the perpetrators of the arson, and not read too much into the actions of a panicking female that may not have been thinking clearly.”

The foxes’ words swirled heavily in the air for a few moments, before settling like cheap tobacco smoke over the three mammals. Bogo seemed to be in no hurry to break the silence, happy to let his two subordinates stew in their uncertainty and his implied disapproval.

“I know better not to second-guess my officer’s judgments in the field, but I have to wonder if that coyote was the only one not thinking clearly,” he finally continued. “The health and safety of my officers comes first, and always takes priority over solving cases. There will always be more cases.” His hoof tapped a paper on his desk. “This medical evaluation seems serious, and yet not two days after being admitted into an emergency room, I catch you, Officer Hopps, back in the building”. He slipped the sheet from his desk and peered at it. “According to the evaluation, you were diagnosed with nausea, disorientation, and dehydration, as well as a highly elevated blood pressure and heart rate. I see the doctor’s notes here stating that your condition was serious, potentially life-threatening, and that you were not fit to return to duty.” He stared back at Judy. “Do you dispute this diagnosis?”

Judy smiled brightly and cooperatively.

“Yes, sir. The doctor told me about my situation, and advised me to avoid strenuous activity for a couple of days.”

* * *

_“You’ve had a close call, Officer Hopps. In my honest opinion, you should stay in bed for at least a week with as little exertion as possible. We’re climbing an unknown tree here, with no idea how fragile the branches are.”_

_A tired-looking raccoon looked up from his tablet at Judy, Nick hovering at his side. The rings of exhaustion around the raccoon’s eyes were well-masked by the actual rings around his eyes, a useful feature for a doctor. Despite his exhaustion, his beady eyes glinted with interest at his patient._

_“However, I’ve reviewed your latest series of blood pressure and heart rate measurements, Officer Hopps, and I’m happy to say that I think you might be over the worst of it. To be sure, we’re going to fit you with a cardiac sensor during your upcoming bed rest.”_

_“Worst?” mumbled Nick, darting a pointed glance at Judy._

_“Yes, she was skirting a heart seizure when she first came in. This street drug must have substantial stimulant as well as hallucinogenic properties. Glad you got her in in time—we managed to medicate down her heart rate and blood pressure to reasonable levels.”_

_“So you agree that it was a good idea to get her into medical care as soon as possible?” Nick drawled sarcastically, for Judy’s benefit. The rabbit rolled her eyes. Yes, fox, I get the point._

_The raccoon nodded his head emphatically. “Yes, I’m glad you brought her in with no delay. This easily could have gone the other way. This is powerful stuff you’re dealing with, whatever it is. Now that you seem to be safe, I feel I can say that you’ve given me a very interesting medical case. I look forward to those cardiac measurements… out of concern for your health, of course”, he hastily added._

_Judy could almost feel the self-righteous indignation radiating from her partner, and resolutely refused to look him in the eye. She wasn’t in pain, but just so, so tired. And sore. And disquieted. Whatever the ER had given her may have settled her heart, but it hadn’t settled her mind by a long shot. But she was too tired to sort it out now._

_“I’m soooo glad you deigned to let me take you to the hospital, madam,” Nick said in a faux-aristocratic voice, “and not dilly-dally around. It looks like I just saved your life. Again.”_

_The fox was getting snarky. Good. That meant he wasn’t scared anymore. The furtive, anxious glances he had kept giving her as he had rushed her and Sage’s family to the hospital had been unsettling, expressions she wasn’t used to seeing on her best friend’s face. But now things were getting back to normal. Soon he would be teasing her about how she owed him a dinner for saving her life, maybe two. She hoped so. Tonight had thrown her emotions off-kilter. She feared she would be dreaming about the evening's events for some time._

_”How’s the coyote family doing?” Time to redirect the conversation back to the doctor._

_“Well, at your request I’ve done some basic health checks and had some preliminary bloodwork done. The results came in surprisingly quickly, and that’s why I’m here actually-to report what we found. There’s no life-threating condition for any of them, as far as I can tell—but my specialty isn’t canid biology”—the doctor exuded a whiff of distaste—“ and the little kit seems underweight for his age and species. I’m not sure, because I had to use charts for a generic candid, since there don’t seem to be specialty charts for these koy-a-tees?”_

_“Coyotes,” both partners mumbled._

_“Coy-otes, right. As for the rest of the family, I wouldn’t say that they are undernourished, exactly, but there are hints of a dietary deficiency. Both the teenager and the elderly female seem to be deficient in iron and a couple of important vitamins. At least, vitamins that seem to be crucial for the bulk of mammal species.”_

_“What about Sage Waters, the mother?” asked Nick._

_“She’s interesting. She still seems to be under the influence of this drug, and she’s slightly underweight, but the the bloodwork shows no sign of anemia or any other dietary-related deficiency that the rest of her family shows. Overall she seems in really good health.”_

_“Of course she would,” growled Nick. “Given my luck, why would I have even expected otherwise?”_

* * *

“I assure you sir, that I feel fully recovered from the aftereffects of the incident. The doctor reviewed my cardiac record this morning and cleared me for duty-“

* * *

“- _I still strongly recommend that you take a few more days off, Officer Hopps-“_

* * *

“-so, I would feel better if we were allowed to continue on this case.”

“Hrrmmmm,” grumbled Bogo as he turned and displayed a file on his computer. “That is a question, isn’t it? You state here in your report that you think that arsonists burned an entire building down, threatening nearly a hundred lives, just to terrorize this Sage Water and her family, all over something that her brother Wiley may or may not have seen or heard. That is an awfully thin thread to grasp, Officer.”

“Sir, I—“

“And Forensics has issued a preliminary analysis of the apartment fire, and found no sign of accelerants or some ignition device.” He raised a hoof to forestall Judy’s reply, as she jumped up onto her seat. “Yes, it’s true, that arsonists can make devices that leave behind only ash, but apparently that takes a bit more skill and effort than a simple Malaclaw cocktail or pipe bomb. Skill that takes money and strong motivation, and I fail to see how a second-rate apartment building would attract either.”

“Sir, I’ve taken the liberty of examining records of other recent residential fires in Zootopia—from my bed of course—“ she hastily added, “and about 15% of them cross-check with addresses of coyotes, which seems a pretty high percentage, considering how few of them there are.” Nick cocked his ear towards her. She hadn’t mentioned to her partner how busy she’d been with Peter Hodge’s database app in her apartment the past day or so.

“Yes, I saw that in your report,” Bogo grunted. “It looks like you’ve gotten some practice with database analysis. Or at least some help from Records.” He sat in silence momentarily.

“Let’s return to a couple of other points. There is still that little matter of that wrecked crane to deal with. He folded his arms. “City Hall has decided once again to shove its nose into the whole situation, and based on their input Internal Affairs has decided this morning to assign a lower priority to its investigation into the willful destruction of city property by you two. They do, however, recommend some sort of disciplinary action in the interim, a slap on the paw, so to speak.” Bogo stared steadily at Judy. “I think your lead is too thin to justify spending on-duty officer time on, so for now I’m going to place you both on leave without pay for three days, so you can reflect on your actions, and so that damn fire chief won’t trumpet so much in my ear at tomorrow’s EMS cross-agency meeting.”

Judy’s ears snapped to full attention, but before she could speak, she heard Nick reply. “I think I understand, sir. I assume that what we do with those three days, and where we go, are our own business?”

Bogo cracked his neck as he turned back to Nick, who now straightened his posture.

“If you’re not being paid, I don’t care how you waste your time, Wilde. You can visit the Nocturnal District on your own if you want. Sample the nightlife, so to speak. Off-duty officers are even allowed to carry department safety gear down there, as long as they have been cleared and recertified by Precinct 4.”

“I’ve heard the training facilities at that Precinct are pretty interesting,” said Nick.

“That they are, Wilde. Tell you two what, I’ll let Officer Hopps remain on the clock til the end of the shift, in case she’s curious about visiting it.” He rose from his desk. “Hoops, after six o’clock, I don’t want to hear from you for three days. Waste your time all you want”.

“What about me?” Nick said.

“Well, at least for now,” the buffalo snorted, “you’ve haven’t lost your job—yet.” He frowned toward Nick as he said this, as if slightly disappointed that an opportunity had been lost.

“Still plenty of chances for that, sir,” Nick chipped in, starting to wiggle down from his chair, and Judy winced. Why now, of all times, did the fox have to get cocky? Why deliberately trip over a root when you were about to escape a collapsing burrow?

“Ah yes, so glad you agree, Officer Wilde,” grinned the bull, almost jovially, and it took all of Judy’s willpower to keep her ears from drooping. Nick turned calmly from the chair, unfazed. “I’m sure there are other career-ending opportunities just lingering around the corner. Just to pick a random example, suppose that an officer lied about potential conflicts of interest in an investigation. Such as, oh, let’s see, suppressing the fact that he had a previous romantic relationship with a mammal of interest in a case. That would be an interesting tidbit to add to your future review file.” He cast a sidelong glance at Judy. “Especially if this past relationship with a female was a factor in his partner’s decision not to arrest her.”

Nick only smiled breezily, leaning back slightly, not showing a hint of embarrassment about his past cross-species relationship.

“Yes, sir, I certainly agree that would be a bad situation. Which is exactly why I disclosed my former co-habitation with Sage Waters as soon as I became aware of her role in this case. Although I just want to clarify that the relationship was never ‘romantic’ in nature”. His gaze never wavered from his boss as he spoke the last sentence.

Bogo rolled his eyes in distaste. “I _really_ don’t care what you two did when you lived together, and the law forces me not to judge anyway. When did you file this disclosure?”

“I wasn’t certain about Sage’s identity until I saw her in the fur in the Meadowlands. After clearing Officer Hopps from the hospital and returning the family to their residence, I logged the association when I filled our preliminary report the following morning- about two days ago.”

The buffalo nodded curtly. “So, now that all has been laid bare, so to speak, can you justify why I shouldn’t relieve you from further work on this case due to this potential conflict-of-interest? Once you return from your leave, of course?“

“Certainly, sir,” Nick replied. “Given that the focus of the investigation has moved on to Wiley Coyote, an individual I have had no previous involvement in, and given that Officer Hopps has declined to press charges against Sage Water, thus effectively ending that individual’s involvement in the case, I would submit that any potential conflict-of-interest has been resolved.” Pausing for a moment, he then added, “Plus, I have excellent night vision.”

Bogo rubbed his chin, staring at Nick as if he were an art critic looking for a flaw to criticize in a painting. He turned toward Judy.

“Hopps. Did Wilde’s past relationship with Sage Water influence your decision not to charge her?”

“No, sir,” she replied crisply, with a hint of wounded pride that he would even ask.

“Then I’m going to leave the decision up to you. Should Wilde still work on this case?”

* * *

_She lay on her bed in her cramped apartment, restless. She had lived in this apartment ever since her initial arrival in Zootopia, well, except for that three-month “interruption” when she had quit the force. Luckily, she hadn’t gotten around to breaking the lease at the Pangolin Arms; the terms of breaking it had been pretty severe, and even when she had turned in her badge, she had procrastinated breaking that final link to Zootopia. And her reward for keeping the faith was that she now still got to listen to her neighbors argue at odd hours, and figure out exactly how many different vegetables could be freeze-dried and cooked in a microwave._

_The odd thing was, during all this past year, she hadn’t really noticed how cramped the apartment was. She generally spent little time here, being so busy at work, and when she got home she usually went right to sleep. On those relatively rare evenings or mornings when she had a few hours free time, she preferred to stop by coffee shops, parks, or even sit on a bench at the mall and experience, on a tiny scale, the massive heartbeat of the megalopolis, a small rock surrounded by a steady and powerful river of animal life. Oftentimes Nick or some other acquaintance at work would join her in scouting out the local area, but many a time she had just enjoyed the feeling of being alone, surrounded by hundreds of animals. It initially surprised her how much more alone you could be in a large city than a small town, but when you grow up with a few hundred siblings, you learned to appreciate solitude._

_Which made it all the more strange how conscious she was of being alone now, trapped inside her own apartment and her traitorous heart, which at the moment was hooked up to a monitor strapped to her belt. She had been lucky, she supposed, not to have been more seriously injured in her job; really, since her spectacular entry into the force she and Wilde had had more of what she would call misadventures, like that skunk pride parade. Whenever she had been hurt it had been a sprain or flesh injury (she hadn’t been sure how to pawcuff a porcupine at that one frat party—well she sure knew now). But even then, when an injury forced her to take a little time off, she had still been able to move around on crutches and leave the apartment for a bit. But Dr. Scholtwitz, the ER raccoon, had been adamant that she wear this monitor for 48 hours, in order to check that her heart rate wouldn’t relapse to dangerous drug-induced levels. It had been the best compromise she had been able to reach with the medical profession. So for the first time in years, she had to be still. Try to be still. Grrrr…_

_And thus the apartment that had never bugged her was bugging her. A lot. And on top of that was this unfinished case and a potential witness lurking out in the Nocturnal district; another itch that she couldn’t scratch. And she still had another 24 hours to go before returning to work and updating Bogo. Nick said he would wait for her return before he visited Bogo. That was either considerate or cowardly on his part, probably both._

_She shifted onto her back, dressed only in a leotard and sweatshirt. On the plus side of being apartment-bound, she had had plenty of time to talk to her parents, so much so that they had actually suggested she didn’t need to call more than once a day, something that she should have been relieved about, she supposed, but somehow it still miffed her slightly. Even her parents were off doing something interesting, like Nick probably was…_

_She turned back to her phone, her one salvation in her book-less, TV-less room._

_“Are you meeting anyone new, finally?” her Mom had asked. “I know how busy you are, but rabbits need to go out and meet others. It’s healthy. I worry that you’re more isolated in the city than you were ever were in Bunny burrow.”_

_Truth be told, over the past day she had been wondering the same thing._

_“No, I’m not taking you somewhere,” Nick had said over the phone. “The doc said for you to stay put for two days, and I’m not going to risk killing you just because you’re bored”. Coward. She had never realized how much time she spent with him, until today, when he refused to be around her. “Don’t want to distract you, Carrots. If I make you laugh too hard, you’ll die, and then your mom won’t send me blueberries anymore.” Maybe it was her imagination, but did he seem relieved to leave her alone? Was he ashamed about bringing his cross-species relationship to light? He knew she wouldn’t judge him, right? At least she didn’t think she would. One long-term victim of the Night Howlers case had been her iron-clad confidence in her own impressions and judgments. Well, if the fox wasn’t going to talk with her she wouldn’t let him know about the texts she had been exchanging with Laughing Water. Sage’s son had been hanging out in the Nocturnal District, and he had been kind enough to let her know Wiley hadn’t shown up at the Last Dance Nightclub yet._

_Maybe her mom was right. She needed to start opening up her social circle to meet new mammals. But where was she going to bring new friends? Here? Not a place to bring anyone, especially if she wanted to entertain. She hadn’t even brought Nick by. The fox had glimpsed her sleeping quarters and liked to tease her about it, so she tended to avoid showing him. Anyway, Nick preferred, like her, to wander around the town whenever they had a spare night. “The whole city is my apartment, Carrots,” he once bragged, and she had to agree, especially since she had never seen his apartment. She half suspected that he had lived under a bridge. It would fit in with the tragic mystique he seemed to like to cultivate around him._

_She activated the specialized database app Peter had written. There. There was an example of a new mammal she had gotten to know recently, and probably could get to know a little better. When her mother had gotten just a little too invasive about her social life (as usual), she couldn’t resist dropping the name of a certain acquaintance, just to get her mother to hop off her back._

_“What have you done together?” the mother had asked over MuzzleTime._

_“Oh, nothing. Nothing. He just wrote me a phone app to help me with a case.”_

_“He wrote an entire app just for you?”_

_“Not for me, Mom. Just my job.”_

_“Heh,” Stu grinned. “I’m definitely getting old. Back in my day, when a buck wanted to impress a doe, he just fixed her car or wrote poetry.”_

_“And you tried hard, dear, you really did,” Bonnie smiled, patting her father’s paw absently._

_“You mean the car, or the poetry, hun?”_

_“Both.”_

_“It’s not what you think, guys,” she had responded. But then somehow a clutch of her sisters had decided to shove their whiskers into the MuzzleTime call, and then the matter became a family vote, with her sisters confidently stating that Peter’s gift was “nerdy, but sweet,” and advising that “he’s totally into you, Sis. You’ll see.”_

_Peter’s regular job must be pretty undemanding, because somehow he had found the time to add some personalized touches to what should have been a pretty dry database. Such as the goofy cartoon caricature of a bunny that kept popping up on the help screens to give instructions on how to enter the proper search terms._

_“Do you like him?” her mother had asked. “Is he good-looking?”_

_Judy had noticed that the goofy cartoon bunny bore more than a passing resemblance to the Department of Records employee. The awful cartoon wardrobe made the point hard to miss. The little avatar wasn’t handsome, but it was endearing, in a certain way._

_On top of that, Peter would have the app spurt out random facts about Bunnyburrow every few minutes. “I just shoved it in there, cause I thought you might like some reminders about our hometown,” he had texted, “but I included an option to turn it off if it becomes too distracting.”_

_As she lay staring at her phone, a little banner, bordered with broccoli, declared:_

**“BUNNYBURROW* CARROT EXPORTS: 51% grocery**, 35% canned goods, 12% juice*** products.”**

**“*defined as encompassing the southern 45% of the Tri-Burrow region.”**

**“**includes convenience stores, food stalls, and big-box warehouses like Ram’s Club and ClawsCo.”**

**“*** incorporates juice, smoothie, and other beverage products.”**

_She hadn’t turned off the feature. Oddly enough, the stats did make her feel a little homesick. She noticed she had a new message. Her heart monitor beeped a small alert about an anomalous heart rate. Nope, not from Nick. From Peter._

_“Hi Officer Hopps. Managed to get image compression working. Restart the app and now you can search the Benefits photo database remotely. Won’t be a real high resolution, but should work. Let me know if useful!”_

_She had already tried all sorts of stats, and cross-referencing coyote addresses with the fire department had already been enlightening. She had run her mind ragged about every possible connection between arson and coyotes. What more could photos tell her? There was only one name that popped immediately to mind, but a new banner burst onto the scene before she could enter it._

_“_ **A doe in Bunnyburrow has an average of 4.5 kits by the time she is 24.”**

_Her eyes narrowed. OK, the app was starting to sound like her mother. Was Peter behind this? She decided it was just an oddly-timed random fact, cleared the window, and entered “Sage Water.”_

_A set of date ranges came up. She selected last year’s, and the same photo she had seen at the ZPD appeared. Tired eyes, tired soul, downcast gaze. Apparently healthy, though, which I guess is a bit of an achievement, given what she’s put herself through. This is the face of someone who nearly killed me. Somehow she couldn’t seem to muster up much emotion about that. Even her heart monitor refused to register any skip of a heartbeat, or acceleration of her pulse. Just another day on the job, I guess…_

_What did Nick ever see in you, I wonder? She flicked her claw across the touchscreen, and dates flew by. Looks like Sage had run across the city bureaucracy many times over many years. Let’s see, this would be around the date Nick knew her…_

_A much younger face dissolved onto the screen, and Judy felt a stir of unease. She wasn’t much of a judge of canine beauty, but Nick’s ex-girlfriend’s golden eyes were indeed striking. Even at the low resolution, they seemed to leap of the screen and look right into you. Her ears were straight and perky, which she guessed might be a sign of health. Her coat seemed to have a healthy sheen as well. But it was the eyes, along with some distinctive black markings surrounding the eyes, as well as the structure of her high cheekbones, that gave the coyote a faint exotic air compared to most wolves or foxes she had seen._

_I guess I could see how a male could find her attractive, at least superficially. I mean, I suppose that there are very few mammals that look like her, with her being endangered and all. She wondered how many other bunnies in the world looked like her. Exotic in looks she was not. Even her distinctive (she felt) black-tipped ears probably had hundreds of duplicates in Bunnyburrow and Zootopia. Well, all for the best, probably. She wouldn’t want someone to like her just based on her looks, she was pretty sure._

_Another tap on the app, and a drop-down menu listed vital statistics. Marriages, right at the top. Another tap. A list of names splayed across the screen. Wow, are all these really husbands? You really know how to pick the ladies, Slick Nick. Am I going to tease you about this someday? Yes, yes I am. Maybe. When enough time had passed and things had settled down to what they had been._

_She started to scroll through names and dates of the marriages. Claws on Bark (domestic partner), six months. Sniffs the Breeze (married), one year. Wind through Grass (domestic partner), five months. Munches on Blueberries (married), thirty months. Shade under Willow (domestic partner), three months; Starlight in Summer (married), thirteen months; Crossing the River (domestic partner), five months. And so on. What a sad record of a life. Each name hinting at a whole cycle of meeting, mating, and misplaced hopes. Had there been any love in her life at all, she wondered? Was Nick really the best thing that had happened to Sage? Was that why she had been so bitter about him?_

_She still remembered, roughly, the coyote’s words under the moon: “I will tell you something about Munches that I would not normally tell a stranger. He has many names, for he can be many things. But no matter what the disguise, he will always do what is best for him.”_

_She paused, her paw hovering above the small screen. Her heart sensor beeped a warning. Then another. She scrolled back and selected ‘Munches on Blueberries (married)’. There was a link to a photo from the Benefits office, ten years earlier._

_He was younger, much younger than she was used to, and his tan fur and golden eyes were unfamiliar--she was used to orange and a bright verdant green. But that sidelong gaze, that lopsided grin: she must have photographed them a hundred times over the past year. She could close her eyes and trace every contour of that muzzle._

_“He is a Trickster, and he will trick you into thinking that you can trust him.”_

_Her heart sensor was screaming continuously, but she didn’t care anymore. Her foot was tapping rapidly, she felt hot blood rushing to her face and ears, and Judy Hopps, who had thought that she knew herself well, now felt a cauldron of rage welling up in her stomach, betrayed by someone to whom she had confided her soul—_

* * *

“Hopps? Your decision?”

Judy blinked, and realized that both Nick and Bogo were staring at her. One puzzled, the other annoyed.

“Sorry sir, just jumping the gun, so to speak, thinking about how I’m going to spend my time off.” She turned to look Nick straight in the eye, her own ears ramrod straight. “If Wilde here says that he has revealed all his past connections to this case, then I trust his word completely, and have no concerns about his continuing to work with me.”

Nick’s expression softened. He smiled at her, with a familiar sidelong gaze and lopsided grin.

She smiled back.


	11. Off Target

**Well, I’ve had a small slot of time and a burst of energy to keep going. I plan to have another chapter up in about a week.**

 

* * *

 

“Nice shooting, Fluff.”

Even under the twilight illumination of the shooting gallery, Nicholas Wilde’s night vision could clearly see the tight cluster of tranq darts surrounding the heart of the target. He turned to Judy. “Goggles must be working out for you.”

His partner swiveled to look at him, her night-vision goggles emitting a faint green glow that gave her normally friendly eyes an eerie appearance. For once, she actually looked faintly threatening.

“Thanks,” she said curtly.

“Got a secret technique that you’re willing to share?”

She worried her lip with her teeth. “Well, when I shoot, I try to visualize a specific animal’s face, instead of the target. Helps motivate me, and I think it helps prepare me for a real-life situation. Haven’t actually had to shoot anyone yet. Hope I never have to.”

Nick glanced down the long corridor toward the target. “Well, whatever mammal you’re imagining, keep it up. They’re really improving your aim,” he chuckled, as Judy smiled tightly and turned away. He punched a button, and a low red diffuse light filled the gallery, light enough for Judy to remove the goggles, but not enough to ruin natural night vision. “What else do we need to be checked out on?”

“Trans-zip device and grapple gun.” The voice emerged from the murk behind both of them, causing Nick to start slightly. Judy smirked, as she had heard the small bobcat walk up behind them moments earlier.

Sgt. Lahini, equipment quartermaster of Precinct 4, approached the pair, her eyes glowing a ghostly yellow, even under the red lighting. “Next item on the Nocturnal District safety checklist: showing proficiency with the grappler.” In her arms were two sets of what looked like a combination of crossbow and climbing assist. “These are the smallest that we have, but you two are still going to find them kinda bulky. I’d carry them on your back, like a backpack. Especially you, Officer Hopps. Walk this way.”

The quartermaster slunk away into the gloom toward another part of the facility Judy was unfamiliar with. The shooting and training gallery was located just inside ZPD Precinct 4, whose jurisdiction covered the Nocturnal District that currently lay somewhere beneath her feet. The precinct maintained the facility in order to train, equip, and test officers before they were deployed inside the District.

Throughout her brief career Judy had spent some time in this shooting galley, which was the largest and most diverse among the ZPD precincts. But she had never loitered much in the other areas that trained and tested more specialized skills required for nocturnal operations.

“Go ahead, Nick. I’ll be there in a moment.”

After casting a mildly curious glance in Judy’s direction, Nick imitated the slinking motion of their hosting officer down the hall, mouthing ‘She said ‘Walk this way!’’ to his partner. He was in a noticeably better mood than he had been over the past few days.

The two predators crossed the corridor into a room the size of two racquetball courts. For a moment Nick had an impression of walking inside the jaws of a giant predator, before he saw that the ‘teeth’ surrounding him were conical pyramids projecting from the floor and ceiling.

“Cave simulation, huh?”

“Yep,” their supervisor said. “I’m going to first review the grappler with you, and then work with your partner, when she decides to show up.” Nick noticed her slight hesitation before handing the grappler over. “This is an expensive piece of gear, you understand.”

“Clearly,” Nick agreed, noting the gas cartridge mounted under the gunstock, the lightweight titanium grappling hook, and a set of small rollers built into the side. “We’ll take good care of it.”

“I think you’ll be OK, but your rabbit partner-“, the bobcat snuck a glance backwards over her shoulder. “She’s on her third vehicle now, isn’t she?”

“She does seem to have more than her fair share of crazy car chases, that’s true. Not her fault that that hopped-up zebra thought he could just drive away from a bunny though.”

“Maybe so, but isn’t she also the one that destroyed an entire fire department crane just the other day?” Lahini met Nick’s eye. “Not to mention an entire subway car a while back. Just saying, I want this gear back clean and in one piece. And not sold on the black market, either,” she added, eying the fox distrustfully.

“Nice to know our fellow officers have such faith in us,” drawled Nick sarcastically. When he and Judy had arrived at the station an hour ago, neither had mentioned to Sgt. Lahini that they were going to be off-duty when visiting the Nocturnal District. That decision was looking smarter by the minute.

“Not being prejudiced. Just talking based on the facts,” the bobcat shrugged, but then clammed up as Judy hurried into the room.

“Sorry about the delay. We all ready?”

“No prob, Officer Hopps, we just started. Now you’ve never been to the Nocturnal District before, right?”

“Right!” Judy replied, brightly. Nick grinned quietly in relief. Judy had seemed a bit out of sorts today, from his first glimpse of her this morning at Clawhauser’s desk, and through their tense meeting with Bogo. She had insisted that they travel separately to Precinct 4 (“I have some errands to run first”), and she had seemed distracted throughout their initial shooting session. Good to see that she was settling back into what he called her “bright eyed, bushy tailed” attitude. He thought he understood why. Even he, the world-weary fox, was getting a little tingle of anticipation in his spine. The Nocturnal District. “Land of Endless Dreams,” as the slogan went. And soon, Judy would be seeing it for the first time. He was looking forward to seeing her first reaction to it.

“OK, then. Well, you’ve shown that you can use the goggles correctly when handling your weapon, but the Nocturnal District isn’t just special because it’s always dark. It consists of a set of interconnecting caves, surrounding three central large caverns. It’s got the highest population density in all of Zootopia. Animals that can’t live anywhere else have to live there. A lot of them are small, and quite a few of them can fly. That makes the place feel at times like a cross between Little Rodentia and the Rainforest District. Motor vehicles are heavily restricted, and surface visitors are typically restricted to the cavern floor, so the pedestrian walkways are nearly always jammed. The walls and ceiling are crammed with housing and infrastructure—every square foot of surface area is covered. In the midst of all this city workers, including fire and police, need a way to get around quickly.”

The Sgt. pointed up to the ceiling, toward several wooden stalactites.

“Know what those are?”

“Yes, sir, Stalactites cling ‘tight’ to the roof, and Stalagmites grow from the floor, cause you ‘might’ trip over them,” Judy recited rapidly and eagerly.

The bobcat rotated her ear toward Nick.

“She always like this?”

“You have no idea. But right now she’s just really excited. Like she said, it’s gonna be her first time.”

“And you?”

“Been there lots of times.” The fox nonchalantly hefted his grappler. “But never got to use these fancy toys before. Just stuck to the ground in the past.”

“And I hope you never have to use it,” replied Lahini, “Officer Hopps, what I was actually pointing to up there were the trans-zip lines. See them? Try your goggles.”

When Judy switched on her night-vision, she suddenly saw a network of cables transecting the entire room, connecting at a series of nodes around certain stalagmites and stalagtites.

“Most of the District is quickly accessible by these lines, which are only open to public officials.” She held up her grappling device. “We call this a grappler, and its main use is for moving rapidly along the lines”. She indicated the little set of motorized rollers on the side of the device. “These snap over the line, and then propel you along it. Let’s get started”.

Over the next half hour the partners learned how to attach the rollers to a cable, clip on the safety line, and then zip through the air and across the room. They learned the one-hand grab, and how to rig the safety lines so that they could keep both hands free as the device moved along the lines as they hung suspended behind it. Soon the bunny and fox were zipping around the room’s perimeter in an impromptu race.

“Haven’t I already told you foxes are better climbers than rabbits?” teased Nick, as he beat out his partner and landed on a small circular platform suspended under the tip of a large stalactite. A moment later he felt the thump of a second body landing beside him.

“We’ll see about that,” she said, and although her smile was sweet, there was an extra glint of ferocity that gave him a moment’s pause, before he plunged off the platform onto another line that gradually ascended all the way to the ceiling.

“OK, emergency measures,” the sergeant said a few minutes later.

It turned out there were two emergency backups for falling from any height, whether from a wall or from a trans-zip line. The first was the grappler itself. If it became detached from the line (or the line broke), then the grappling hook projecting out the side of the device was automatically armed, and a falling mammal could activate the compressed gas cylinder to shoot the hook over a line, and then reel themselves back up to the safety.

“As an absolute last resort,” warned the bobcat, “you can actually shoot the hook into the wall or ceiling. There,” she pointed to the titanium grappling hook, “you can see a little embedding barb for just such a purpose, but I warn you,” she glared at Judy, “real estate down there is so crowded that you’re guaranteed to cause property damage along the wall or cavern roof if you try it. Go for a line, if you possibly can.”

The pair then spent some time practicing shooting their hooks over lines, first from the ground, and then suspended from a cable fixed with a carabineer. They then left the room and entered a narrow vertical shaft with a giant fan embedded in the floor.

“Oh, I can’t wait to try this,” Judy laughed, bouncing up and down. “Come on,” she growled, looking at Nick slouching lackadaisically against the wall, “don’t tell me you’ve actually done this before!”

Straightening up, Nick smiled. “I’m in no hurry to be a flying fox. And I think you’re turning batty.”

“Batty. Cause I’m going to be a flying rodent. Funny.” She flashed a hint of a smile, but Nick sensed that it was forced, and his tail dropped slightly.

“Children,” growled Sgt. Lahini. “Check that your waist packs are secure. You’re required to have them on the entire time you’re within the Nocturnal District.”

Both partners obligingly checked their fat fanny packs, their grapplers now strapped across their backs. They then scaled a ladder bolted to the size of the shaft, ending up on a small mesh platform attached to the shaft’s side. The sargeant followed.

“All right. It may be hard to believe, but if you ever use the cable system, you’ll often be high enough that if you fall, you have enough time to deploy a parachute. There’s one packed in the fanny pack there. Now I’m gonna turn on this fan and you’re going to show me how to deploy, steer, and land with the chute.”

And so it began. A hurricane wind howled up the tunnel, ruffling their fur and causing their eyes to water. Their guide first demonstrated a partial deployment of the small parachute inside the fanny pack, grasping the edges of the chute with footholds and pawholds. She jumped off the platform into the shaft, and the fox and bunny watched, mesmerized, as the bobcat bobbed over the fan, arms and legs spread, a parachute flaring behind her like a small bubble. She pulled one arm in, and they saw how the whole assembly could veer one way or the other, in a crude form of steering. Finally, she deployed the entire chute, and the upward breeze lifted her up the shaft past the platform, where she grabbed a rung alongside the shaft and pulled herself back down onto the platform, hitting a kill switch for the fan as she did so.

“That. Looks. Like. So. Much. Fun!” Judy squeaked, paws clenched underneath her chin.

“With a ride like that, I’m sure you guys must have a lot of ‘accidental’ falls down there,” said Nick. “They mentioned you guys did this at the Academy, but I’ve never actually seen it done.”

“It only works if you are about 100 m or higher above the cavern floor,” Lahini said, ignoring the excited eeps coming from the bunny. “But like I said, you’d be surprised how often that happens. Now give it a shot.”

 

* * *

 

“Oh, that was amazing!” Judy enthused, as she and Nick exited the shaft. Both of them looked like they had just walked out of an industrial-strength fur blower. Nick’s tail was so fluffed out it looked like it could dust furniture, and he turned to try to batten it down.

“Sorry, can’t hear you. Wind still blowing in my ears,” he moaned.

“O.K., Officers,” Sgt. Lahini said. “That should cover it. Here are your refresher forms, signed off. Just deposit a copy with your precinct, and carry the yellow form with you at all times once you enter the Nocturnal District. You heading in soon?”

“Yes, tonight,” Judy chirped instantly. “Thank you, Sargent. That was fun! But very educational and enlightening too,” she hastened to add.

The little bobcat cracked a smile. “You’re welcome, officers, and good luck on your case.” She cast a wistful glance at their grapplers, as if wondering if she would ever get them back. Then she turned and headed toward the exit.

“Aren’t you supposed to keep an eye on your heart rate, bouncy bunny?”

Eyes flashing, his short partner whipped out her cell phone and waved it in front of her partner’s face.

“Didn’t you listen in Bogo’s office? Got cleared by the doctor this morning. Heart rate and rhythm is normal. I am not going to spend another day in forced bed rest.”

“Aw, probably did you some good. What’d you end up doing anyway, rearrange your apartment?” Nick paused for a moment. “Come to think of it though, about the only rearranging you can do in that shoebox you live in is move the bed from one wall to the other.”

“I did a lot of playing on that database app Peter Hodges sent me.”

“Ah yes, database searches. Exactly what I would do on my day off,” he mocked. “Well, yesterday wasn’t too exciting for me either. I hope you appreciate the amount of paperwork I covered for you yesterday, Carrots—“.

He glanced over his shoulder back at her, and was struck by her suddenly sober expression, her ears slowly sinking toward the floor, as if she had just been reminded of something. She was staring at him, intently, searchingly. Almost, he thought, as if she were trying to memorize what she was seeing, in case she never saw it again. Capturing this moment.

Nick felt a shiver run down his spine, and his ears drooped in puzzlement. “Carrots?”

Judy stirred herself from her trance.

“I didn’t tell you, but I’ve been texting with Laughing. He let us know Wiley was at the Last Dance yesterday.” Before saying goodbye to Sage Water’s teenage son, Judy had exchanged mobile numbers. The mother might not keep a phone, but the younger generation couldn’t survive without one, apparently. “We might even see Laughing and his, um, friend, tonight.”

“So he’s decided to take her out on a date, finally?” Nick asked, absently. “Your pep talk inspired yet another impressionable do-gooder?”

The low light level made it hard to see whether she blushed. “Hush, you. I have no idea what he’s done. After all, they’ve been going together to that place for a while, haven’t they?” A pause. “Hey partner, I was curious about your night vision. Is it really that good?” she asked.

“Well, better than yours, I bet.”

“But during the shooting checkout, you wore the goggles.”

“Just so I’d know what they’re about. I didn’t really need them.”

“Care to show me? You up for a little shooting contest?”

“We gonna have enough time to drop off our paperwork, gear up, snack up, and head out later?”

“Just a couple of minutes, that’s all. I’ve even set up the targets for us already.”

“So that’s what delayed you back there. I’d wondered what you were up to.” Nick grinned. Now things were really getting back to normal. About time.

They approached the shooting range again. Nick saw that two targets had already been set up, in two adjacent side booths. Both targets had already been set up at their most distant position, two small white blobs in the gloom.

“Guess we’re going to skip the warm up and get right to it, then?”

“As you said, we’re a little short on time. I’m going to have to rush out of here to get dressed in time. We’re going to meet at nine at the Crystal Pool entry, right?” she said, strapping on her goggles.

“Actually, I was thinking that since this your first time, want to meet a little earlier and walk down into the District? It’s quite a sight, and takes only about half an hour longer.”

He was expecting an enthusiastic agreement, but instead, his partner hesitated, casting her eyes toward the floor.

“We’re kinda short on time already. I’ve still gotta get prepped.”

“Prepped? We’re just wearing normal clothes, right? Off-duty?”

“I checked the club’s website and a few Furbook postings, to see how to blend in, and I’m gonna have to try out a few different outfits. You’ve got it easy-you can probably get away with putting on one of those horrible shirts of yours.”

“Well, my shirts are pretty classy outfits, but I think the dress code there is slightly more formal.”

“What, do I actually hear Mr. Wilde admitting that that green eyesore you wear isn’t actually appropriate for something?”

“I admit to nothing.”

“I’m starting to realize that.” For the first time this afternoon, she looked him in the eyes directly.

“Anyway, you only get one first impression of the District, and trust me, you’re gonna want to walk.”

“Trust you, huh?” She readied her stance at her booth. “We’ll see. I’ll go first. Turn out the lights, will you?”

He flicked the switch and the area plunged into darkness.

Out came her tranq pistol, and whap, whap, whap, whap, she punched out four shots within a couple of seconds. As Nick’s vision adjusted to the darkness, he could see the faint outline of the target. Judy activated the conveyor belt, and the target approached them, a white blob that resolved into a generic mammal outline, with four darts clustered within a few centimeters from the center.

“Not bad, there, Carrots. I’ll have to try your trick about imagining a specific face.”

Goggles off, he squinted at his own target, still in the distance. His eyes must not have been as good as he remembered, because he had a hard time making out the target outline. He tried to aim as close to the center as he could, then pulled off four shots of his own. He knew he was going to get mocked, because she usually beat him at this game. At least, he thought she would mock him. Today their entire rhythm had felt a bit off. Given what had happened recently, he couldn’t blame her. He hoped she would mock him in the near future.

“Sure, Nick. Why not. I’ll walk in with you. Eight-thirty, right?”

“Sounds good,” he said, frowning as the target trundled toward him. Something wasn’t right. It wasn’t a standard shooting outline; instead, it was a printout of a photo. A photo of an individual posing for some ID shot. Part of him idly noticed that his darts were well clustered, but centered on an eye, not the chest. Darn.

The trundling stopped, and Nick leaned over the shooting barrier to detach the photo from the target backplate.

At some point the original photo must have been scanned into a file, and this reprinting had blurred some features. But he recognized the face.

Slowly at first, but with increasing speed, his tail sunk to the ground, as his ears flattened to his skull. A hint of a slouch appeared in his posture, but then he instinctively straightened up and cleared his throat. Never let them see they get to you. He flashed his winning smile, shoving a paw in his pocket.

“Well, Carrots, I guess now I know who you’ve been visualizing for target practice?” he said lightly. He turned to look at her.

But she was gone.


	12. The Last Dance

See notes at end of chapter…

 

(Image courtesy of Samur Umlal)

* * *

Hundreds of thousands of years of seepage from the central fountain into the limestone base of the central city had created a vast network of caves underlying Savannah Central. The small, calm, crystal pool that guarded the eponymous natural entrance into the caverns represented only a fraction of the enormous amounts of water that had been involved creating the Nocturnal District.

The bucolic scene at the entrance was marred slightly by the huge, blocky parking garage looming just adjacent to it. But since cars were limited in the district, beauty had to negotiate with practicality. At least some graffiti artist had decided to paint vines over the dull, gray walls, thought Judy.

She loitered by the pool, watching a steady stream of animals drift toward the gondola entry at the mouth of the cave. She heard a rustling behind her and turned around. Swirled around, actually, as she was wearing a lavender dress that complemented her eyes (she knew this since her mother had told her).

“Hard to imagine you running and tackling a perp in that outfit. Where’re you hiding the parachute, anyway?”

“The skirt part is detachable, and I’ve got pants underneath,” she replied matter-of-factly. “As for the parachute,” she unwrapped a shawl from around her waist, revealing a decidedly unfashionable fanny pack, “I’ve got it covered. Literally. And the grappler fit into one of my purses.”

“You mean backpack.”

“It’s a purse,” she said adamantly. “A purse that you wear on your back. It’s the fashion these days, apparently. That’s what my sister Julie says, anyway.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Nick said. He was wearing a long-sleeve maroon shirt with black pants and long black tie. Judy cocked her head at the outfit.

“You’re almost looking respectable, fox. You actually own that shirt, or did you rent it?”

“I’ve had it even before I met you, Miss Fashionita,” said Nick, smiling confidently. Judy searched his eyes, and was amazed, as she always was, at her partner’s self-possession. He must have seen the photo by now. He must know that she was upset about it. And yet here he was, staring around at the place as if this were simply another night on patrol.

“How long to get there?” she asked, staring at the gondola.

“Well, the place doesn’t really get busy for another couple hours or so,” Nick said. “And I think our friend Wiley would probably prefer to show up when the place gets crowded. We’re not in a rush. So the walking path is over there.” He gestured toward a small but well-lit footpath that wandered past the gondola station and disappeared into the gloom of the cave.

Why not walk? She nodded curtly and then passed him quickly. Nick might act like everything was normal, but she keenly felt the awkwardness between them--almost a physical presence. It felt more like an uncomfortable first date than a police action between partners. They had become fast friends in less than a day, back when they had first met. Could that mean that they could fall out of friendship just as quickly?

Silently he followed her past the sequence of lights to the lip of the entrance. Judy looked down and saw that after an initial shallow descent, the cavern quickly plunged over into a nearly vertical shaft. The trail initially zigged-zagged among the rubble on the cavern floor before disappearing into the shaft as well.

The brisk walk and cool, damp air among the boulders was invigorating, and soon they were staring down the shaft. She could see the faint lights of a gondola rising like an elevator from the inky blackness below. Small pinpoints of lights spiraled down the shaft, no doubt marking their own path’s progress.

They headed down, and Judy noticed how the lights along the path became steadily fainter and more directional, casting just enough light to illuminate the path and nothing more. Large multi-decked gondolas passed silently up and down past them like brightly-lit jellyfish swimming through inky-black ocean depths. The path was large and smooth, but as far as she could tell she and Nick were the only mammals walking down, and clearly no one was walking up. That wasn’t surprising, as they had already plunged down three hundred meters, and she still couldn’t see the bottom.

After several more minutes she saw how the descending gondolas, after dropping below her, suddenly seemed to veer to the side and disappear. Neither partner spoke, with Nick keeping pace with her, behind her and to the right, their steps making a two-one-two-one-two-one rhythm together on the rocks, her rapid small pace in phase with his longer, slower steps. Those steps suddenly stopped.

“This way,” he said, gesturing toward a tunnel into the rock wall that had just appeared off the path. He led the way through the tunnel, Judy’s meager night vision struggling to see more than six feet ahead. And then she saw Nick’s faint outline turn a corner and—

She froze.

Apparently they had been descending inside a hollow stalactite, and this narrow tunnel was a shortcut to the outside surface of that stalactite. They stood on a small ledge, protected by a guard rail, still only the two of them present. Beneath her she could see a descending gondola emerge from the bottom tip of the stalactite and shift direction toward the center of what was clearly an enormous cavern. Even before Zootopian civilization had moved in, the sight must have been humbling. Giant stalactites and stalagmites erupted from the floor and ceiling (ceiling and floor, she reminded herself). At a several locations they had joined together, forming floor to ceiling columns that must have been nearly a kilometer high.

She couldn’t see the far end of the cavern, in part because it was so huge, but mostly because of the infrastructure. Architects had hastened the natural process of column formation by designing structures that connected various stalactites to stalagmites. Most columns from floor to ceiling were actually entirely artificial, if the rows and rows of dim lights she could make out on the columns were any indication. She felt as if she were trying to peek through a thick forest with no canopy.

The air was cool, still, and silent, so she could hear a low roar rising from below her, like the sound of an invisible seashore. Despite what were clearly huge numbers of animals present, there were only a minuscule number of pinprick lights scattered across the scene, including the wall and ceiling, giving the impression of a starry sky, albeit a three-dimensional starry sky, with pinpoints of light seemingly hovering in mid-air, and a few moving slowly between columns, revealing the presence of bridges. She leaned over the rail to look down at the distant cavern floor and saw small meandering paths of light tracing along the bottom, all converging toward the most brightly-lit part of the scene, a large cluster of buildings that looked like a batch of mushrooms. They had relatively narrow bases, but large flaring canopies that directed highly colorful but highly directional lights vertically downward toward the floor underneath the buildings, minimizing light leakage outside the immediate area. Must be the tourist area.

“Dancing Shadow’s Casino,” nodded Nick’s silhouette, pointing a shadowy claw toward a spot in the tourist area. Judy remembered the well-dressed coyote from the awards ceremony a couple of days ago, and stared in surprise at a tall vertical building that stood positioned underneath an enormous stalactite that flashed a large sign (one of the few actual visible signs) that said “VISION CASINO”. The sign must have been several stories tall, she thought, yet it was dwarfed by the multitude of stars spreading from horizon to horizon.

Her breath was taken away; it was one of the most beautiful sights she had ever seen. It was like watching a moonless winter night in Bunnyburrow, but also like visiting an underwater coral reef. Words failed her; she wanted to squeal in excitement at such a harmonious merger of nature and civilization, but draped over her elation was sadness, a regret that she had to witness all this for the first time on today of all days, while she was still reeling from—

“It’s too bad you have to get your first view of the Nocturnal District after what happened today.”

And just like that, she realized the moment of truth had arrived.

“How?” she said, hugging herself as if she were suddenly chilled. “How do you _do_ that? You can’t even _see_ me right now, and yet you’re still reading my mind”. She felt the anger breaking through her brittle façade. “You’ve always been able to see right through me, yet I _apparently_ have no idea when my best friend is lying to me, even when you’re standing right in front of me in full daylight.”

She heard him shift, and then heard him say, in an attempt at lightheartedness, “Yeah, got your message in the shooting gallery, loud and clear. Bunnies aren’t big on subtlety, are they? Though you know, you could’ve saved yourself a lot of work and just sent me a poop emoji or, strange as it sounds, just told me -”

She stamped her foot and whirled to face him, pointing a paw at his face.

“Fair enough, _partner_. You said that she was just your girlfriend! Not even that; that you were just basically roommates! That you stayed with her out of pity and because of little Laughing! But you were actually married for _years_! You were even disguised as a coyote! Which I’m still trying to wrap my head around, by the way, this whole cross-species thing. I’m not judging. Mind you, I don’t really get it, I’m just a simple country bunny and all, but I’ve worked so hard, _so_ hard, to keep an open mind about it-“.

She huffed in frustration with herself. Stop babbling. “But that’s not the point! You lied to Bogo about the degree of your involvement with this family. You lied about this to _me_ , even though it’s directly relevant to this case! A relationship is one thing, but marriage is a whole different level. It would have disqualified you from this case from the start, and I’m sure you knew that. And after I learned about this yesterday, I had to lie to _our_ boss, today, against _my_ better judgment, to keep you out of trouble! This thing could end your career! It could end _my_ career! You have a right to your past and privacy and all, but this thing could cost us our _jobs-_ ”.

She threw her arms in the air and walked back and forth. Her voice hitched. “You’re making me choose between your friendship and everything I’ve worked for. It’s tearing me up inside!”

The lightheartedness was gone. “I’m sorry. I can ex-”

She cut him off. “But the worst thing? It’s not that I might lose my job. I’ve quit this job before. No, what really hurts is that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me this. In mean, we’ve only known each other for a couple years, I get that, but I thought we had a _bond._ We’ve shared something. We’ve faced _death_ together. We’ve saved each other’s _lives_. I’ve opened up to you in ways that I’ve never shared with anyone else, even my parents. I believed you’d shared things with me that you’d hidden from everyone else. It felt, It felt—“ she trailed off.

“It felt special. I felt we were looking out for each other. I thought I knew who you were. Now I’m wondering if I know who you are. If I’ve ever known. It’s completely thrown me.”

She turned back away. “I’m also angry with myself that I’m so angry about this, and that I can’t really explain why. That drug trip must have hit me pretty hard, I guess. I’m still not over it.”

She sighed, then leaned against the railing and let quiet reign over the scene once again. She waited for the quips about emotional bunnies to start.

Instead, she felt, rather than saw, his lithe form lean against the rail next to her. His voice, when it spoke, was raw, husky, and low, almost a whisper.

“Judy, I’m going to explain everything. Tonight. I promise. No excuses. But I want you to know that I feel exactly the same way about our friendship as you do.” He straightened up, as if he were prepared to give an oath. “I never wanted to put you in this position, and I would give up my own career without a second thought, if that’s what it took to protect yours.”

Judy didn’t reply immediately, but Nick noticed her ear twitch upward slightly from her shoulders.

“Great time to be heading into an undercover effort,” she laughed mirthlessly. “I was so eager to chase this one down, but now even I’m having second thoughts about tonight.”

“Hey, we’re technically off-duty, right? And the thing is, talking about what happened is going to be hard and humiliating for me. I’m gonna need somewhere that serves an overpriced cocktail to take off the edge. Lucky for us, we’re heading to just such a place. So whadya say we just head over and talk, and if the coyote shows up, well, we’ll just swing with it?” He watched Judy ponder for a moment, still gazing out over the scene, before she turned and nodded her head. He gestured toward the rainbow-hued mushroom patch in the distance. “Still up for walking the rest of the way?” She didn’t answer, but turned and walked down the tunnel, him following a respectful distance behind, taking hope in the fact that her tail had flagged back up into what he privately called her “make the world a better place” position.

* * *

Buildings, like animals, could make good use of camouflage, Judy thought as she stared around the Last Dance Nightclub, haunt of choice of a variety of endangered species, as well as anyone seeking a taste of the unusual or exotic. The walk down to the Nocturnal District had been uneventful and uncrowded until they had reached the gondola terminal. Then she had found that the slim path of light she had seen from 500 m elevation was really a wide boulevard that was softly lit by red-hued lamplights every fifty meters or so. Very little light leaked off the path, but she had occasionally seen twin flashes from light reflected from the eyes of animals in the darkness. A small trickle of animals had been leaving the tourist district, but a much larger river of animals had been heading the same way as the two officers. To her mild surprise Nick had not taken her to the brightly-lit mushroom-like buildings, which seemed to be the primary tourist destination, but instead, after crossing a bridge over a rainbow-lit cavern lake, they had skirted off the well-lit path down a run-down alley. She had considered putting on her night vision goggles, but on second thought had decided just to stay closer to Nick, who strode confidently down a dense warren of streets. A door shrouded in darkness, embedded in a crumbling industrial brick building, had been their final destination.

What a difference between the inside and outside! In contrast to the low-key, anonymous front, the structure she and Nick were sitting in was much more flamboyant. The building’s interior was a series of annular rings stacked on top of each other, with each ring above being a slightly smaller diameter than the ring below it. All the rings had balconies that faced a center circular stage, which was currently completely shrouded by a cylindrical curtain that ran all the way to the roof. Tables and bars were arranged along the perimeter of each ring, so there was no bad seat in the house. The scale of the tables and furniture decreased with every floor, so that while elephants and zebras sat on the ground floor, looking eye level with the stage, kangaroo rats and gerbils sat comfortably near chandelier height. She felt like she was sitting inside a giant beehive.

“This is an old building,” Nick said. “Built before television. Back then most clubs catered exclusively to a given size of animal. But the Last Dance, by its very nature, needed to accommodate all sorts of sizes. So they built different levels for that very reason.”

As suited their size, the pair were seated mid-level at a small round black-topped table, which like the others nearby was recessed back into wall alcoves, so that their occupants could get a degree of privacy from their neighbors, especially if they chose to turn down the gas jet burning at their table. Judy had switched theirs down to its lowest setting, leaving only a hint of green in Nick’s otherwise shadowed face as he leaned back against the wall.

“I wouldn’t turn it down too much, partner,” Nick said. “I know we don’t want to be noticed, but too little light can attract as much attention as too much.”

“Easy place to conduct surveillance, at least on someone who’s about our size”, she said, raising the light level so that faint shadows wavered behind them on the wall. “But it’s kinda hard for us to stay out of sight. Maybe we should sit separately.”

“I think you’d be even more conspicuous sitting by yourself at the bar.” For the first time, she noticed he avoided meeting her eyes, as if he knew that an unpleasant topic had to be dealt with, but was unwilling to broach the subject immediately.

Judy nodded. “I noticed it’s pretty predator heavy here. Why’s that?”

Nick shrugged. “Preds are only 10% of the population. Probably easier for a pred species to slip toward endangered levels. Ergo, more predators here. Maybe we preds see a more likely future for ourselves here.”

A calm and clear voice emerged from a tinny speaker mounted inside their nook. “Welcome to the Last Dance Nightclub, your last chance to see some of the amazing diversity and talents of Zootopia! Out next entertainer will be the lovely Sheila, a squirrel with some, shall we say, hidden talents.”

The wine-red cylindrical curtain rose silently upward, revealing the alcoves recessed directly across the ring from them. At times Judy could sense the species of animal present at the table, but for the most part all she could make out were pairs of twinkling eyes. Her attention was quickly drawn to a structure rising up from the stage that looked like a combination of tree and a multilayered cake, reaching almost to the chandelier on the roof. A new curtain descended from the ceiling. Unlike the previous one, this curtain seemed to be made from of a series of linked glass panels, and Judy saw how the limbs of the structure became magnified as the panels descended between them and her.

On the bottom floor a small tan squirrel took a bow and jumped onto the first platform of the structure. She then began a series of acrobatic routines around the perimeter of the platform, set to music from what sounded like an offstage piano.

“Why the glass curtain?”

“You’ll see in a moment. As I was saying, this place was built long ago, long before you could have built-in TV monitors connected to cameras with zoom lenses. So without TV, how could you get around the problem of large customers seeing tiny performers?”

Judy started as her peripheral vision caught a movement behind the glass panel suspended just off their balcony. Sheila the squirrel had now jumped onto the platform level with their floor, and had started her routine again. But now she appeared to be the size of Clawhauser. The startled rabbit now realized that the glass panels must be lenses.

“Wow! So they have different magnifications for different sized performers?”

“Yep, and as you can see, she’s working her way up the different levels so that she can be seen by different sized customers. Mammals were really clever about that thing, back in the day.” He sighed, “Nowadays, of course, they can just project a TV image onto a monitor on your table. But I always liked the old-fashioned ingenuity of this place. Kinda fits with the idea of showcasing acts from endangered species, you know? A nostalgia, a recognition, of things past?” He cleared this throat. “Personally, there’s a bunch of things in my past I’m not very nostalgic about.”

“So every performer here really is endangered?” Judy asked quietly, not yet ready to take advantage of his hint. “There’s enough endangered species acts to keep a club open?” She scowled as Nick laughed condescendingly. “Don’t give me the dumb bunny routine, right now, O.K.? Just don’t.”

“Sorry, Carrots, I forget sometimes how new you are to all this.” He rubbed his eyes. “It feels like we’ve known each other longer-“.

“Yeah,” Judy said cautiously. “I guess-what the?!” She leaped up on her chair, ears and tail at full attention, as she saw what Sheila was doing. The little squirrel, having worked her dance routine up to chandelier height, had now blithely thrown herself off the top, plunging toward certain death below. Judy’s arms were already lifting the grappler out of her purse before Nick clamped his paws down on her shoulder.

“Whoa! Stand down, officer.”

The little squirrel suddenly spread-eagled, revealing the flaps of skin connecting her arms and feet. The fall became a glide, and Sheila spiraled around the stage, flashing by their booth and Judy’s open-mouthed expression.

“A flying squirrel! They’re real?!” She hopped down from the table and went to the railing, catching glimpses of Sheila between the gaps of the glass panels below, as the performer gracefully descended to the floor. “Wow, I never knew-“ she turned, grinning broadly toward her partner, awkwardness momentarily forgotten. But a glimpse of Nick brought the feeling rushing back, and she seated herself again, flustered.

“Thought we were keeping a low profile?” said the fox affectionately, risking a hint of a smile.

“Sorry, that caught me off guard. Never even knew those guys really existed,” she said, laughing insincerely.

“Well, the reason you’d didn’t know is that they’re endangered. Lot’s of reasons animals perform here, but one of the simplest is that they’re simply trying to remind others that they still exist. As well as earn some cash for themselves or their family.” He slid a few bills into a slot next to the speaker after the announcer reiterated Sheila’s name. “I’m guessing from your reaction that she deserves a little appreciation, right? Anyway,” he shrugged, “no harm done by your little cheerleading routine, because I think you’ve _finally_ attracted a server’s attention. I was starting to wonder.”

An animal that looked faintly like a raccoon approached their table on roller skates and smiled at Judy. “Hi. You from Bunnyburrow?“ she began, but then startled slightly as she caught a glimpse of Nick, who had been sitting recessed at the back of the booth. “-Um, evening to you too, sir. Er, um, what can I get for you two”?

Judy, sensing the server’s subtle uneasiness around the fox, automatically leapt in to smooth the situation. “I’ll have the Garden Gimlet, please,” she said. Being off-duty gave an interesting opportunity to sample some normally off-limit drinks, but she didn’t want to risk getting too buzzed. “And water. What about you, Nick?”

“Whiskey sour, with ice,” replied Wilde, flashing a disarming smile and nodding toward their server’s nametag, which listed her name and species. “So your name is Vel? A Red Panda?”

“Oh yes,” their server replied eagerly, relieved to be able to retreat into a familiar line of conversation. “We’re actually not related to the black and white giant pandas you may be more familiar with; apparently someone’s just figured out that we’re more closely related to weasels. She looked around quickly, then leaned in and added in a lower voice: “you’re not ever going to hear me call myself a red weasel, though, you know?” She straightened up. “My family has lived on the outskirts of the Rainforest District for about 200 years now. There’s several thousand of us still, but that’s still few enough to worry my parents and city hall, apparently, especially since we can only eat a certain type of bamboo--.” She finished scribbling the order. “Changing the subject for a moment--I’m training to be an artist, and I’m always looking for interesting subjects. Mind if I sketch the two of you? It’ll take just a moment. My species has a natural drawing ability.”

Three days ago, a sketch of her with her (former?) best friend would not have taken a second thought. But now? Judy looked askance at Nick. How awkward would he feel about it? But her partner only cocked his head at her, his eyes showing nothing but a disinterested curiosity about what she would respond. Jerk.

“Sure,” she said, hoping it sounded neutral enough.

“Mind if you squeeze a little closer together?”

“Um.”

It only took a minute, but it seemed like an uncomfortably long time before Vel tore off a sheet and slid it across the table toward them.

“Wow, I had fun with that. There’s a nice contrast between your forms, kind of a yin and yang thing, so to speak. I’ll go place your drinks now. Hope you two enjoy your evening.”

Judy nodded back, embarrassed, unable to look at Nick. “Don’t worry Carrots,” said Nick. “I’m sure she says that to everyone to get better tips.”

The drawing was impressive, considering how few lines were there. With just a few strokes, the panda (the red panda, she corrected herself) had captured Nick’s sly smile, although she was drawn a little too perky for her taste—a bit of a wide-eyed ditz. She slid it over to Nick, who glanced down and studied it for a few moments, from a few different angles. “Hey, a sly fox, and dumb bunny. She really saw into our souls, huh?”

“I believe the sly fox bit. You’ve been hiding a lot from me, Munches.” She couldn’t put this off any longer.

“Ah, perfect timing,” Nick said to Vel, as she skated up and plopped their drinks in front of them. He dropped a few bills on the table, “And thanks for the sketch.”

“Yes, thank you,” Judy added hastily. “It’s a nice conversation starter.”

“My pleasure. Always nice to get a chance to practice,” she said over her shoulder as she moved on, ringed tail high in the air.

Judy tapped her foot as she waited for Nick to begin talking. Instead, he tossed back half of his drink in one go.

“MMmmmmm…” he sighed, eyes closed. “Yeah, that’s gonna help.” They popped back open. “O.K., first thing to understand is that I only dressed as a coyote for that photograph. I never tried to pass myself off as one anywhere else.”

“So why-“

“It was a hustle,” he said. “It was for money. See, I had been living with Sage for a few months and was starting to get an idea how the welfare system worked, since that’s how she and her family survived.”

Judy nodded, eyes boring into his.

“Now each individual program only gave a little, but there were a lot of them, and it added up. Meal stamps, care for females with dependent kits, income tax exemption for being poor, and well, if you were endangered—“ Nick spread his paws in the air. “I had no idea what bureaucracy could be up until that moment, Carrots. I mean, fifty years ago, Zootopia was effectively trying to drive coyotes extinct, and now there was a literal blizzard of forms you could fill out to get benefits if you were a coyote or other highly endangered species.”

He began to get more animated, and a little less abashed. He was right—the drink was helping, and helping fast. She primly sipped her Garden Gimlet. One of them had to keep their head straight, and didn’t trust her emotions enough right now to keep them in check if they were loosened too much.

“When I actually trudged to the Department of Records to check out the regulations, I noticed the marriage benefit program. Apparently, some bigwig called Daniel Moniyham wrote a study a long time ago that argued that the breakup of traditional family structures was a big reason behind the decline of many species. Not sure what he meant by traditional—I mean, what works for mice will definitely not work for elephants.” He tossed back the rest of his drink, no easy feat for a fox with a long muzzle. “But the policy mammals took this report very seriously, and so the benefits office provided some very large carrots—pardon the expression-- for coyotes to get married. And the rules were so loose! They didn’t need a religious wedding, just a civil union. No species representative or approval for marriage was needed—I guess that most species don’t have a central authorizing body anyway. Anyway, when I read the exact wording of the regulation, I realized that technically, the marriage didn’t even have to be to the same _species._ ”

She saw the entire story instantly, and forced herself to take another sip of her drink. The tinny voice spoke up again from the wall. “Coming up shortly, the legendary Zilda! Settle in for another unique night, folks!”

“The rewards for getting married were huge—it doubled her monthly stipend and tripled the child support. So I suggested to her--out of convenience only, believe me, it wasn’t out of love--that we should get married. I managed to find some expired Zootopia ID numbers-“

“You mean they belonged to dead coyotes.”

“So blunt, Officer Hopps, but yes, there’s a lot identification numbers lying underused, shall we say. So in went the forms, then off we went to the marriage bureau.”

“Then why the disguise, if you didn’t need to be the same species?”

“What’s written down is one thing, what clerks were willing to do is another. Didn’t want to spend the time arguing with reluctant city officials, and I could see Sage wasn’t going to handle the public humiliation of a cross-species ceremony very well, even if it was just going to be in front of some anonymous bureaucrats. So add some eye contacts, some dye—lots of dye actually--and a little fur liner, and Munches was born. We sailed through an appointment, and no one—not Zootopia, not even the Waters Clan, including the female who unknowingly became my mother-in-law—was the wiser. And little Laughin’s life got a lot healthier immediately afterwards. Speaking of which, you see him down there?”

He nodded toward a darkened alcove on level below them, now visible that the glass curtain had risen, and the red velvet curtain was still descending slowly. Judy leaned forward to get a better look. She saw a faintly familiar silhouette leaning over toward another figure, and then both straightened and stared up. The gas lamp brightened on the table, and Judy recognized the young coyote, sitting next to a slightly larger and lankier female wolf. The latter had a lush and beautiful white coat, and her ears were directed toward Judy, fascinated. Abashed, she shyly and quickly retreated toward Laughin, who smiled and gave a small wave before the descending red curtain cut off Judy’s view once more.

“So you’ve been texting him since yesterday, huh? I noticed you waited a long time to tell me.” Nick said.

“Well, after yesterday I wasn’t sure if we were going to be partners anymore. That’s when I first saw that picture.”

“I wondered for a long time, after I applied to the ZPD, if they’d ever unearth that photo. How’d you find it?”

“Peter Hodges’s little database app. You know, my um, contact in the Department of Records? The app listed all of Sage’s past marriages. It said you were married for thirty months.” She paused. “I wouldn’t have even looked at the picture if it hadn’t been for the name. Munches on Blueberries. Was that your idea?”

“Yeah, it was my private little joke. Never thought someday the joke would be on me. Blueberries. Bellweather’s downfall, and now mine. They’ve saved me, and now they’ve betrayed me. Well, I guess now we’re even, little fruit.” He dropped his mocking tone. “Thirty months sounds about right. I ended the marriage about a year after our relationship ended. The arrangement was so profitable for both of us that we tried to keep it up as long as we could, even after I moved out. We both had to show up at the benefits office every six months or so and sign together, but she eventually moved out of the apartment, and with no easy way to contact each other, and with our finances completely separated, it all kinda petered out, so I filed some divorce paperwork. Easy in, easy out.” He hesitated. “Have you shown that photo to anyone?”

Judy looked indignant. “Of course not. So it sounds like the ZPD doesn’t know anything about this?”

“When I applied for the academy, I was relatively honest and listed a lot about my past. I really wondered whether they’d let me in, after reviewing my history. Heck, I even wondered if they were going to be willing to spend the money on my background check in the first place—I had a pretty long list of names and addresses they were going to need to check out, a lot of work over just one applicant.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Bogo pushed the issue a little bit.”

“Yeah, Buffy-butt may actually be a softie deep down inside, though I’d never say that to his face. Anyway, I left this ‘marriage’ out of the application. I mean, I could argue it was technically legal till I was blue in the face, but somehow it didn’t seem worth the risk. This whole thing ended over twelve years ago, so I decided to roll the dice and didn’t write down anything about my alter ego. My name wasn’t associated with any paperwork concerning Munches, so I bet that any routine review of my background would miss the connection, and no one would ever look at the ID photo. For a while I thought the dice had come up in my favor. ”

They sat in silence for a few moments, each needing time to absorb the new developments. It felt unsettling to realize that even after a year of spending nearly every day with him, she knew very little about his history, and maybe even him. Maybe they’d been strangers the whole time, and she’d only just now realized it. Maybe he had always known.

The red curtain rose once again, and Nick, perhaps unnerved by her pensive silence, leaned over again to look down at the young couple down and across from them.

“So that’s Rachel, his special friend, you think?”

“I guess. His texts didn’t mention she’d be here. Didn’t he tell us the other night they came here together pretty regularly? But that was during the day. This might be their first evening show. By evening, of course, I mean evening by way of the surface. Cheddar and chives, how do you describe time down here?" "Anyway-" "Anyway, somehow she looks—“

“Nervous. Definitely nervous and excited.”

Judy turned to him, ears quivering optimistically. “Maybe he asked her out! On an actual date! Maybe he’s worked things out for himself, now. At least I hope so. He was being so hard on himself the other night. Poor guy, putting the whole weight of his species onto his shoulders. I’d have no idea what I’d do in his fur.”

“Me neither, to be honest. As for the gal, I doubt he’s revealed his feelings for her. I’d say it’s more likely she’s excited because he’s told her about our mission to find Wiley. You know, impress the girl by letting her witness a possible police action? Any clever young buck ever try that approach on you? Give you a chance to live out your Nancy Shrew fantasy?

“No buck was ever clever enough to try that on me. It might have actually worked, come to think of it. And how chauvinist are you anyway? Nancy Shrew? I was a Hardy Boars fan myself.”

“Those characters were morons. In every book I read all they did was run around ramming their heads into things, hoping they would knock something loose. Come to think of it, this would explain a lot about your approach to policework.”

“Hush you,” she said, exaggerating her country drawl. She gave him a suspicious stare. “You really think Laffie would try to impress his crush by setting up a bust on his uncle?”

“I would.”

“Frankly, fox, I’d believe it if you’d told me you’d sold out your uncle, at this point.”

“Thanks, Carrots. It’s not like Laffie’s uncle has been a positive role model.”

“Unlike you?” she said, with a slight lilt of sarcasm.

“Well, yeah. Beat on me all you want, but I think I’ve helped him out more than this drug-dealing coyote we’re looking for. I mean this Wiley doesn’t even have a permanent address. What I do find impressive is that he doesn’t even have an arrest record. Talk about sly mammals.”

A silence settled between them once again, but not as awkward as before. It hadn’t really been a marriage. It had just been a business partnership. Somehow she took comfort in that.

She swirled the remnants of her drink. It had gone down faster than she had planned. “Nick, I still don’t get why didn’t you tell me about this whole… situation? I mean, back when I first met you, you lied to me when you told me you never did anything illegal. And I understand that, since we’d just met. But now, after all we’ve been through together, I feel you would have alerted me to this right after the arson---” she let the question hang here.

“Technically, it wasn’t illegal, remember?”

Her face scrunched up in disapproval, her eyes glaring, half-lidded, at the fox. “Yeah, you were only draining Zootopian tax dollars that could have gone to an actual endangered animal, using registration data from dead animals.”

A shrug. “Fine. I never told you because I wanted to avoid exactly this conversation. Putting you into a situation where you felt you had to decide between our friendship and your conscience”. He huffed quietly. “I figured I had no right to burden you with a secret like this, to make you complicit in my decision not to inform the ZPD. And so, coward that I am, I’ve tried to ignore the problem, and hoped it would slip away.”

She cast her eyes down toward the table. “You should have trusted me, Nick. I would have been annoyed, but I would have understood. You had no right to make that decision for me. I would have forgiven you. Eventually. Probably.”

“You say that, Carrots, and you might even believe it, but I wasn’t going to risk either your career or our friendship over this. When I first realized that Sage was involved in this case… I can’t even describe the feeling. It was like ghosts from my past coming back to punish me. Finnick had a field day reaming me about this.” He raised his arm to catch Vel’s attention, and as she approached, he pointed to his glass. She gave a thumb’s up, then retreated. As all this happened, Judy sat back, mulling over Nick’s words. The speaker piped up again.

“Honored Patrons, we present our biggest star: Zilda!”

“Yet it’s strange,” she sat back, tapping her lip, “Sage never said a thing to me about your marriage, back in the Meadowlands.”

“Maybe she assumed I already told you. Or maybe it didn’t cross her mind. She’s not exactly the sharpest claw in the paw, you know.”

“Another strange thing. For someone who was hoping this would ‘slip away’, you spent a lot of effort trying to get me to arrest Sage. If I’d gone through with it, weren’t you worried that she would spill everything about you?”

“Well, yeah, a little. But she tried to kill you!”

A little more of the frost inside her soul thawed. He’d been willing to risk exposing his past when he had been worried about her-

The remains of her drink clattered to the floor as she unconsciously grabbed her partner’s sleeve, her other arm pointing, trembling, toward the glass curtain. “What in the world is that?” she gasped, as the lens magnified the oddest animal she’d ever seen. It was a stout, squat little creature, only slightly bigger than Sheila the flying squirrel. At first glance the slick wet fur made Judy think it was an otter, but then she saw the webbed feet, the beaver tail, and then its mouth—what kind of a mouth was that?

Nick had half-risen from his seat before catching what she was pointing at, and then relaxed. He broke out into a wide grin. “That’s Zilda! Wow, she’s been here forever. And that’s her bill. Her duckbill. She’s a duckbilled platypus.”

He stole a glance at the bunny, who stared, fascinated. “A plat a puss?”

“She’s a marsupial, but a really rare kind. She lays eggs instead of giving live birth, apparently.” He leaned forward confidentially, a playful grin on his face. “Back in the rougher days of this place, when I was a busboy here, I heard a rumor that if you were willing to pay a large fee, she would let you watch her lay an egg.”

“Nick!” Judy’s expression warred between distaste and shock at her partner’s comment. “She’s so…. unusual. But also really beautiful too, in her own way.” She looked sadly at Nick. “So I guess she’s endangered, too?”

The fox’s teasing smirk remained, but even in the dim lighting she could make out a sorrow in his eyes. “She used to have a husband. Interesting old guy. Had poisonous spurs on his feet. Joked that he never had to walk unarmed to a knife fight.” He placed his glass on the table. “He used to dance with her on stage. I don’t see him now. And I don’t think any of her eggs were viable. As far as I know, she could be the last of her kind.”

“Oh no,” she cried, clasping her hand over her mouth, and then whipping back toward the stage. Clearly Zilda was getting up in years. Her dance was shaky and slow, a far cry from the acrobatics the squirrel had shown earlier. There was even something faintly comical about her waddling gait. Yet there was also a measured dignity in her movements, almost as if she were acting out a stately, rhythmic song. No, not a song. A prayer; a benediction; a requiem. Judy felt that she and all the other patrons were silent witnesses to what could very well be the last dance of an entire species. The place felt full of ghosts to her, and she shuddered. A quick glance around the tables, those that she could see anyway, revealed mostly somber, respectful faces. Several couples were holding paws. Instinctively, she reached out and grasped her friend’s claw, which was resting on the table.

“Nick, I’m sorry I made you shoot yourself in the gallery. Maybe it was a little over the top. I just felt so… _betrayed_ , for some reason. Disappointed. Not rational, I know.”

“Hold on, Fluff. I’m still getting started on my magnificent apology. Please don’t interrupt it with your own amateur efforts now,” he patted her paw gently. “Though I have to say I’m shocked, shocked, that you’re less than perfect. I mean, I still remember a press conference where you behaved perfectly rationally.”

“Thanks a lot for bringing that up, Slick.” In truth, the fox rarely mentioned that awful day.

“Kind of a relief, actually, that once again you’ve shown you’re not Miss Perfect Professional. I feel I can slack off a bit now. All this noble and heroic behavior was starting to wear me down.” He shifted slightly in his seat. “So now what?”

She blinked away a tear. That drink must have been stronger than she had thought. And then there was that platypus, now above their heads, dancing up toward the ceiling. She had been hurt deeply, for reasons she still couldn’t fathom. But she also knew their problems were nothing compared with millions of others on the planet. Or at least one other.

“We’ll get past this, and we’ll figure out something,” she said, leaning toward him, clasping his large paw between her two own. “Maybe we’ll just keep all this quiet. Maybe we’ll have to break your other identity to the ZPD once enough time has passed. Point is, we just have to trust each other. If we have each other’s backs, we can overcome any challenge. No more secrets.”

“I’m glad you’re saying that you don’t care about my past, Judy,” he said, as another drink was deposited in front of him. The rabbit wrinkled her forehead in puzzlement as the fox quickly downed the entire glass. “I think I’m going to put that to the test. No more secrets, right?”

“Nick-“

“I’m making myself sound noble when I talk about protecting you from getting into trouble, Carrots, but in truth I’ve been silent about all this simply because I’m a coward.” His eyes half-closed as the alcohol hit him. “Such a coward. Hafta get a few drinks in me to even admit that much.”

“Maybe you’ve had enough Nick. I think we’re going to be O.K.”

“No more secrets. Should know the full story. No matter what it makes you think of me. So scared of that. I really am.”

Slowly, Judy slipped her paw off of Nick’s. “What do you mean?”

“I meant what I said during our walk, Judy. If I had to, I’m perfectly willing to lose my –“

“Hold on. What full story?”

Nick stopped, and then straightened himself up. If he was going to be executed, then he was going face the firing squad with dignity. “Turns out, the regulations on marriage really were poorly written, Carrots. They didn’t specify if you had to marry the same species. They didn’t even specify that you could only marry one individual.”

The gray doe unconsciously grabbed her flattened ears, an icy unease seeping through her body. “And?”

“Well, Sage had a few female friends—or cousins, I guess—I mean every coyote is basically related to each other at this point, right. Anyway, they saw how well our “marriage” was working out in terms of the benefits. And I had a bunch of other unused IDs, so I made arrangements for a 30/70 split with some other females-“

“How many, Nick?”

A round of applause, along with a few cheers, broke out as Zilda finished her dance near the roof and quietly walked off the stage, using a bridge connected to the top ring. The red curtain descended once again.

“What happened next was my first real successful hustle. It finally got me on my own feet, and after I left Sage and never had to stay with anyone else again.”

“Nick, please.”

He cleared his throat.

“I’ve been married 14 times, more or less.”

“FOURTEEN TIMES!” she burst out, shocked despite preparing herself, before she realized that not only was she standing, but that she had also been a little loud. That drink definitely had been a bad call. Now she saw almost every pair of eyes on their level staring at her.

“Um, low profile, I thought?” squeaked the fox.

“You've been married 14 times?” she hissed in disbelief.

“Well, yeah, on paper, anyway. Like with Sage, it’s not like I actually _did_ anything, um, marital, with them-“

“Oh, thank goodness for that!” she growled, exasperated. “And now everyone is staring at us. Why make life easy, right, Wilde? Sure hope Wiley’s not in this place right now and saw us--”

“Only one thing to do to get attention off us,” sighed her partner. “You’re gonna have to play this out to the end. Take that drink and-“

Before he could finish, Judy had already snatched Nick’s drink and tossed it into his face. Ice-cold whiskey dribbled off his snout and onto his shirt. An ice cube slithered down inside his collar, and one eye started to burn slightly. She grabbed his tie and yanked him over toward her.

“Darn it, Nick,” she leaned over, muttering, “I actually liked that shirt, too. Sorry about the eye.” Then she let the tie go and shoved him back. She swung around, nose in the air, and stormed off, a perfect picture of a scandalized female.

Moments later, his phone buzzed with a text.

WILL HANG OUT ONE LEVEL BELOW, LOOKING FOR SUSPECT. COME ON DOWN WHEN YOU SOBER UP.

A few seconds later, another buzz:

And then:

IT’S GONNA BE O.K. BTW.

Nick ran his paw over his face to hide a small smile, grabbed a napkin, wet it, then dabbed at his burning eye, playing the role of the jilted date, studiously ignoring the covert chuckles of a couple of beavers sitting in the nearby alcove. His being a fox, he knew, would help cement the ‘bad date’ scenario in most minds. He sensed various amused animals turning away from him and resuming their business. So he closed his eyes for a moment, sighed, and swallowed down several huge gulps of water, hoping to dilute the alcohol in his bloodstream. If he could sober up, maybe they could actually get some work done tonight.

“Mind if I join you for a moment?”

Nick opened his eyes halfway, then snapped them fully open, suddenly feeling much more sober.

“Hello… Fennel.”

* * *

**Notes:**

 

**Hi, this is the last of three rapid updates. After the relatively large number of comments on the last chapter, I felt I should get this one up relatively quickly. I’m thrilled to get reviews, even critical ones. It shows you actually care!**

 

**I thought since you’ve all been willing to follow the story this long, I should share some of my thinking behind it. When I started the story, I wanted to imitate one of my favorite writers, Dashiell Hammett, author of “The Maltese Falcon.” That story is famous for its style; it restricts itself to describing Sam Spade’s actions, but never his thoughts, just as if one were watching a movie without a voice over. The story spends two paragraphs detailing how Spade rolls and smokes a cigarette, but it spends not a sentence discussing Sam’s true opinion on Brigid O'Shaughnessy. As a result, when reading one is kept on edge over the motivation behind Sam’s actions and what his eventual choices will be. So I’ve tried to write this story in the same spirit, to be as descriptive as possible, to keep Judy and Nick’s motivations and future responses shrouded as much as possible. Even when revealing internal thoughts and perceptions, which I tend to do with Judy (especially the drug trip), I try to focus on surface impressions and not detailed internal thoughts, a bit like Jane Austen does, with her free indirect speech style of narration.**

 

**I’ve kinda enjoyed writing a Jane Austen/Dashiell Hammett stylistic mashup (wouldn’t that be an interesting collaboration!), but I’m realizing that by writing this way, and by writing episodically with cliffhangers, my characters can occasionally appear to do things that seem out of character, even though I didn’t intend that to happen. A better writer, and a writer that updates more frequently, could probably avoid this situation more easily, but all you’ve got is me, and I worry that a couple of upcoming plot twists, which will take a few chapters to resolve, will make readers start scratching their heads about what may appear on the surface be nonsensical actions by some characters. That worry has prompted me to write this little screed.**

 

**So if you’ve read this far, thank you. I do intend to finish this story, and I know exactly how it ends. I hope I’ve earned your trust as our heroes may appear to do some truly strange things without immediate detailed explanation why.**

 

**I’ve been asked several times if this is a ‘WildeHopps’ fic. I know where 90% of the fanfic fandom lies on this issue. All I feel comfortable saying about that right now is that there is an answer to that question, but I will be trying to show it, and not say it. Also, for those of you reading on ArchiveOfOurOwn, look at the story tags ;-).**

 

**JN**


	13. Rabbit hunts Vixen

**Hello, again. Has it really been three months? I envy writers that have the discipline to sit down daily or weekly and type out a few hundred words. I find I can’t write this story unless I set aside a couple of days. It’s takes a whole day just to immerse myself in the world again, and it takes another day for the words to start flowing smoothly. But I’ve had a window of opportunity and have four-chapters roughly ready. In an attempt to make things a little more regular, I’ll release these once a week over the next four weeks. One can dream of being disciplined and organized, after all! It helps that after these four (maybe five, I’m on a roll!) updates the story is 2/3 through, and I feel the plot mechanics starting to move on their own. As always thanks for reading and I always appreciate reviews, even criticism--but be gentle ;-) .**

 

* * *

 

“Fennel! Well, this is a surprise,” said Nick, welcoming grin snapping into place.

“Not an unpleasant one, I hope.” The young vixen was dressed in a flattering lime green dress that complemented her eyes well. An orange sash around her waist strategically highlighted her ochre-colored fur.

“Not at all.” He leaned back into the cushions in his alcove, graciously gesturing at the empty spot Judy had vacated.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” she said, seating herself quickly. “I saw that --awkward -- moment, and I’m wasn’t sure you were in the mood to talk right now.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize that she was referring to the drink Judy had just splashed into Nick’s face. He looked the vixen steadily in the eyes. “It was just a little misunderstanding. Judy can be a little, um, hotheaded.” He knew it was risky skirting the truth in front of a reporter. He only hoped Judy would forgive him if those words ended up in a blog post; he felt he was still on thin ice with her at the moment.

Fennel raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, scrutinizing him like a judge evaluating a gymnastics routine. Resolutely ignoring the skepticism in her expression, he continued.

“Well, it’s flattering, I guess, that you’re watching our movements so closely.”

The vixen raised her paws placatingly into the air and shook her head. “No, no, I’m not a stalker, promise. That’s actually the reason I’m stopping by—in case you saw me, I wanted to let you know I’d no idea you or Officer Hopps would be here. I’m not some kind of weird cop groupie.”

“I didn’t even know there was such a thing as normal cop groupies. The crowd I used to hang with avoided cops if they could help it. So... this is one of your local hangouts?”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I’m here partly because what you told me about the coyote family a few days ago. Or, more accurately, what you didn’t say. I mean, it was pretty clear you’re on the scent of coyotes, especially the Waters family”. She fidgeted, paws playing with her hem. “And as I thought about the really slim story leads I was facing, I decided that hanging out at a known coyote haunt might not be a complete waste of time. And the Last Dance is a pretty well-known hangout for endangereds. So, yeah, I’ve splurged here the past couple nights. I don’t remember seeing you two around yesterday.”

“Yep, this is our first night here.”

“And if you don’t mind me asking,” she leaned forward and whispered confidentially, “are you two undercover right now?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, to be honest, that whole scene where you two fought looked kinda staged. Officer Hopps was just aiming a little too carefully when she threw the drink in you face. Looked like she was shooting a basketball, you know? So, just say the word and I’m gone. Don’t want to mess up any operation going on.”

“Really?” Nick smiled. “You really thought we were doing a carefully staged police operation? Well that helps soothe my ego. Although I should point out that both Judy and I are off duty tonight.”

“I love how you never actually outright come out and lie, Officer Wilde. It’s very sly, very appealing. But I have a hard time thinking Officer Hopps is ever actually off-duty—you too. Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter either way, since I’ve no business interfering or inquiring about any investigation you may or may not be conducting, but” --she leaned forward eagerly- “you may or may not be interested that I’ve recognized one of the Waters family. The older son, he’s been here the past couple nights.” She nodded her head down one floor below. “Hanging out with a young wolf. Can’t quite make out what’s going on between them. You willing to say, off-record of course, whether you’re here because of them?”

“Is that really one of the coyotes that lived in the building?” Nick responded, eyes popping fully open, and leaning slightly forward, trying to catch a glimpse below. “You sure? Well, that’d be an interesting coincidence. Looks like your hunches have paid off.”

Fennel studied his face intensely, as if trying to pick a lock. “Yes, very interesting. So just in case I’m interfering in something, I’ll let you get back to whether you and Officer Hopps are up to. Or not up too, as the case may be.” She stood up. “I hope we’ll have another chance to get together for further interviews, soon?”

Nick stood up as well, grasped her paw politely, and bowed slightly. “Like I said at the coffee shop, I’d be happy to meet again for another interview, another time.” He hesitated for a sliver of a second, before continuing. “Although, mind if I ask a small favor from you, right now?”

 

* * *

 

One level below where she had been sitting with Nick, Judy seated herself at the bar, slamming her purse on the countertop, her grappler unit making an obnoxious thunk that caused her to inwardly wince. She was trying to keep up appearances as a jilted date, but didn’t want to attract too much attention, a tightrope act that was leaving a tight, nervous tension in her chest. The fact she was actually annoyed with Nick helped keep up appearances, but even though he had just revealed he’d been married 14 times as part of a benefits fraud scam, she couldn’t help but feel more lighthearted than she had been just the day before. Their friendship had weathered worse in the past, and they’d navigate these legal and ethical shoals carefully.

Four alcoves across, she could see Laughin and his wolf friend Rachel casting curious glances in her direction. Now that she was seated a little closer, Judy could appreciate that Rachel was taller than the young coyote—she was almost too tall for this level—the second floor--of the Last Dance, and her head fur almost brushed the top of their alcove. The young wolf wore an eclectic outfit, with a desert sunset shawl draped over her light gray shoulders, partially obscuring an ancient-style necklace loosely hanging around her throat. A small chain with bangles looped from one black-tipped ear. Judy recalled how Laughin had mentioned that his friend was into coyote culture, and apparently she had decided to dress for the occasion, whatever that might be. The couple was not holding paws or doing anything that obviously marked them as being on a date. Laughin’s dress gave no clues either; he seemed to have gone out of his way to dress in a low profile, with a gray hoodie, jeans, and generic Zootopia baseball cap. Definitely not date night material, although she suspected that young males were generally clueless about such things. Overall a neutral observer could easily think that Rachel was the exotic endangered mammal, and not the nondescript coyote.

Rachel’s attention was not on Laughin, but riveted onto Judy; she could barley mask her fascination, her mismatched colored eyes locked onto the rabbit’s every move as she settled into the bar. Not that Judy could blame her, given that she had just seen the ZPD officer act out a little lover’s quarrel. To her relief, though, neither of them approached her at the bar, and she flashed them a quick covert smile of recognition.

The bar, one of two on this level, was arranged as a half-ellipse, with the bartop consisting of huge sliced wooden logs, the bark still attached along the edging. Several single mammals were scattered along it, none meeting her eye as she swept her gaze across it. She self-consciously adjusted her dress and asked for a glass of water as the woodchuck barkeep approached. Her purse buzzed, and she fished out her phone and read Nick’s text.

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HER.

Judy had barely finished reading when she sensed someone seating herself on the stool next to her.

“Good evening, Officer Hopps,” a quiet, silky voice said.

The rabbit rotated on her stool, ears perking up as she recognized Fennel, arm jauntily leaning against the counter.

“Well, hello Fennel,” Judy smiled brightly. “Fancy meeting you here. And, please, call me Judy. I’m off duty tonight. I mean, that’s not the reason you can call me Judy. You don’t have to be formal with me.” The vixen had caught her off guard, and she fought to get her mouth under control.

“Your partner said you were off-duty as well, when I saw him upstairs,” she smiled back, and then leaned forward knowingly. “Actually, Officer Wilde didn’t say it outright, not his style, but it’s pretty obvious that you two are up to something. So I don’t mean to interrupt your evening, but Officer—I mean, Nick—asked a favor.”

Judy lowered one puzzled ear. “Huh? A favor from me?”

“No, from me. He was worried that a bunny sitting by herself would seem out of place, and wanted me to check if you wanted another female to sit with you for a little bit.”

What an odd thing for Nick to do, confiding police business to a civilian he (they) barely knew. At least now she knew whom the “her” was in Nick’s terse text message. But why ask what she thought of her? What did he mean? Was he seeking relationship advice?

She had to admit that the green dress her companion was wearing was understated, yet pretty, especially with the orange sash that somehow emphasized her new companion’s lithe build. There was no trace of the wear or repair that Judy had noticed on Fennel’s clothes at the press conference a few days ago. An image of Fennel and her partner sitting side-by-side leapt unbidden into her head. She could almost hear their light laughter, as the animated vixen and her reserved partner smiled at each other, shyly yet slyly-.

Stop. She had to stop second-guessing Wilde, and trust both her instincts, and him, once again. Nick would never just text her about such a personal subject as a potential girlfriend. He must be--well, suspicious was too strong a word, but likely uncomfortable--about Fennel’s sudden appearance, and wanted Judy to know that. Judy definitely sided with “suspicious”.

“Now I wonder why he said that,” responded the rabbit. “Maybe rabbits aren’t big patrons here,” she continued, looking up and down the bar at the pred-heavy clientele. “Do you come here often enough to know?” she queried, meeting the reporter’s eye.

“Like I told Nick, I’ve spent a few nights here this week. I’ve seen some bunnies, but usually they’re here in groups, clusters of bucks or does probably excited to be slumming around in the Nocturnal District.” Her eyes met Judy’s nonchalantly. “Nick’s probably just worried about you getting hassled,” She shrugged. “He was quite the gentlemammal when I interviewed him the other day.”

“A gentlemammal, huh? Nick would get a kick out of that one. Well, I’m sure he’ll be down in a moment.”

“Actually, he’ll probably have to wait a little in order to maintain your cover story.”

What exactly had Nick told this vixen?

“Sorry?”

Fennel gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look. “I saw what happened up there, Judy. Clearly you two have had a big emotional falling out, and it would probably look strange for you two to be together again down here so quickly. So I’m guessing he’s just trying to keep up appearances, but he wants to make sure you’re not going to get hassled. Although--” She winked roguishly “--did you really have to get him in the eye?”

Judy refused to rise to the bait or admit anything. “Look, Fennel, I appreciate your checking up on me, but I’m personally not comfortable talking about what just happened right now.”

“Oh of course, sorry. But, just speaking girl to girl? I was just watching you sit there a moment ago, and you’re not acting like a female who’s looking for a good time, or even one who’s trying to come to terms with disastrous date night. You’ve got cop eyes; you’re scanning this place constantly; looking for something, maybe someone. Thank goodness for bunny stereotypes, or you’d be making more animals here suspicious. As it is, I think you’ve already made a few nervous, even if they can’t quite figure out why.”

Reflexively, Judy scanned the bar again, and noticed a mongoose and an ocelot glancing quickly away. Had to be just a coincidence. She was not that bad of an actress. Just ask Bellweather. She took a deep breath. Maybe this vixen thought she was trying to be helpful.

“So, yeah, it’s none of my business about what just happened between you and Wilde. But frankly, for what’s it’s worth,” Fennel said, idly scratching a claw on the wooden bar table, “I have a hard time believing you would do that to him, given your history with each other.” She stopped scratching and looked up. “So I think you’re on duty, and I think Wilde asked me, in his roundabout way, to help out with your cover, and I’m happy to help. Buuhhuut, if you really do want me to leave -“

“Get you ladies a drink?”

Judy’s other ear shot up and her posture stiffened. She and Fennel turned to look at a goat hovering next to them, wearing an untucked shirt that wouldn’t have looked out of place on Nick, along with chino pants.

Quirking an eyebrow at Judy, and sensing no immediate response, the vixen turned to their visitor, flashed a friendly smile, and said, “I’m so sorry, my friend and I are in the middle of a little heart-to-heart, so we’ll have to take a pass?”

“Oh yeah, um yeah, maybe another time,” he hastily mumbled, retreating.

Fennel turned back to Judy, crossed her paws on her lap, and did her patented demure look again, with an extra dash of smirk.

“Did a goat just hit on us? A rabbit and fox?”

Fennel snuck a small grin. “Yeah, that old goat was probably after you. I’ve seen him put the moves on other prey species this past week. From what I can tell, this place is quite the hookup for interspecies flings. Mammals into that sort of thing probably think the odds are better in an endangered species club. You know, a lot of guaranteed lonely-hearts here,” she grimaced lightly.

Judy wondered what her attitude would have been, had she not talked to Laughin on the curbside earlier that week. She felt morally disoriented, but had to admit that two females together might attract less hassle. Resignedly, she raised her paw to attract the bartender’s attention. “What can I get you, girlfriend?”

A few minutes later, watching Fennel sip an expensive mojito, she asked, “Since we’re apparently talking heart-to-heart, mind telling me why you’re here in the first place? A little far off from your beat, isn’t it?”

“Now is this an official interview, Judy, or off-duty small talk?”

“Does it matter?”

Fennel smiled, stirring the cocktail. “No, not really. I’ve already told your partner that I’m here coyote watching”. She flicked her tail vaguely behind her. “I’ve been keeping an eye on one of the coyotes that lived in the firebombed building. He’s sitting a few tables behind me, which makes me wonder whether that’s why you’re sitting here.”

“I see. And when were you planning to inform the ZPD about this coyote sighting?”

“I just did. Anyway, all you told me at the awards ceremony was that you were worried about the little kit’s health. I take it you’re interested in the entire family as well?”

Refusing to be distracted, Judy plunged ahead. “And suppose we hadn’t conveniently showed up tonight; would you still have told us?”

“Of course, Judy.”

“Before or after you tried to interview the coyote?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, I think it does,” Judy straightened up, quietly adjusting her fanny back to be more comfortable. “You seem to be going to a lot of trouble to make a simple blog post. And you do understand you’re risking interfering with an ongoing investigation?”

“Actually, I seem to remember how I volunteered the names of the family when we first met, and I’ve been nothing but cooperative ever since. I prefer to think of what I’m doing as hard-hitting investigative reporting. I haven’t been reckless; I haven’t approached this coyote, after all. True, I haven’t reported him yet, but only because I get the sense he’s looking for somebody. I was curious to see who that was before approaching the ZPD. But maybe you’re right, I should have called it in earlier,” Fennel leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, staring into Judy’s face, “but I honestly feel I blend in a bit better than most cops.”

“You mean me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

The silence between them was frostier than what Judy had intended. She sipped her ice water, regretting once again having indulged in a Garden Gimlet.

“I feel I’ve made a bad impression on you, and I’m not sure why,” Fennel said, leaning back, seemingly trying to break the awkward pause.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad impression,” Judy said slowly, swirling the ice cubes in her glass, “but you’re a person of interest in this case, and Nick may have told you that I’m pretty by-the-book when it comes to police procedures, so maybe I’m coming off as standoffish. Plus,” she added, “you’re a journalist, and I’ve had some bad experiences with press conferences, as you probably would know.”

“Yeah, I have to admit, I wasn’t your biggest fan at the time you did that, but Nick told me that you felt really bad about it, and as far as I’m concerned you’ve really tried to make up for it.”

“Thanks.” She was being mostly honest with Fennel. Being a member of the press, and being associated with the case were perfectly rational reasons for keeping this vixen at limb’s length. And yet….

She prided herself on trying to see the best in everyone, on consciously fighting the countless unconscious biases that she had once been unaware even existed. Unaware, that is, until she had lost her friendship with Nick and brought such misery and suspicion upon the city’s predators. As a result Judy now made a point of persistently second- and third-guessing her impressions of the constant stream of colorful and diverse animals that she encountered during her duties. She was proud of both her attitude and her efforts, and if her constant evaluation and re-evaluation of her opinions occasionally irritated Nick, well, that was a bonus.

So she was troubled why she kept feeling her fur stand on end, seeing Fennel. Fact was, the female fox had certainly not done anything too explicitly suspicious. She was a person of interest in the case, but only tenuously. Even her appearance here at the Last Dance, Judy judged, had a reasonable explanation behind it, on the surface. And that was it, wasn’t it? She hated to do so, but placing her paw under her chin as she regarded her companion, she admitted to herself that the vixen just seemed to be so stereotypically sly. As if there was a secondary, hidden reason behind everything she did, which she would only share with you if it were to her benefit. In the meantime, she would just sit there with that knowing smile that, for some reason, was much less irritating on another fox she knew. And then there was Nick’s text message--

“If it weren’t for your partnership with Nick, I would’ve thought that you were distrustful of foxes and our sneaky, untrustworthy hidden agendas,” Fennel said. “But I freely admit that I just be stereotyping rabbits. I haven’t talked to very many before you. Actually, maybe only Peter Hodges at Records.”

Maybe it wasn’t just Nick. Maybe all foxes were good at reading her thoughts. Just as most coyotes, apparently, could smell her mood. It left her feeling vulnerable, and she fought hard to keep her foot from tapping nervously.

“I’ll admit that I’ve had preconceptions about foxes,” she replied with a smile and a shrug, “even though when I first came to Zootopia I didn’t think I did. Nick has helped me deal with that. Still, I can’t say with 100% certainty that I don’t harbor some residual prejudice. I haven’t met many foxes other than Nick. So tell you what. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? Things you like, things that motivate you?”

“Wow, I appreciate the thought, but it does put me a little on the spot,” the vixen smiled back. “So, what do I like? What do I like?” she murmured, looking around. “Well, I’ve never been here before this week,” she said, “but I’ve actually really grown to like this place, as long as I can nurse the drinks. They’re a bit overpriced for the amount of ice you get.” She pointed above Judy’s head. “But you also get décor like this.”

Judy glanced up at the large ax mounted above her head on the panel trim above the bar. She had previously noticed that the walls were covered with framed artifacts, many of them with special overhead lighting that gave the place the feel of a museum or a private collection.

“That ax, believe it or not, was also a smoking pipe. It belonged to one of the last pygmy elephants that lived in Zootopia. They lived on some of the offshore islands far down to the south, and this is the ceremonial axe of the chief. I guess he and his family used to perform fire dances here decades ago. When he, the last of his kind, passed away, he left the ax to be displayed here, instead of buried away in some museum.” She paused. “That elephant wanted his prize possession to be surrounded by former friends, not dusty cabinets.” She looked toward the stage. “I think this outfit is as much a home as a club to some animals. Like a warm den in winter.” She rustled her tail and laughed lightly. “Maybe it’s a just pred thing, this vibe I feel.”

“No,” Judy said, “I can see exactly why you’d feel that way. The platu-pus—platypus?-- that was just dancing—Tilda? Zilda? That was so beautiful, but also so sad.”

“Yeah, she’s performed every night I’ve been here, and I’ve dented my budget tipping her every night,” agreed her companion. “So yes, I’ve been enjoying the atmosphere, but I’ve also been watching this young kit behind me and his possibly-future-girlfriend, and feeling something is going to happen,” Fennel said, flashing a broad smile. She leaned back sideways against the bar. “And given that you’re actually here, maybe my hunch is coming true.”

“Back to business, huh? Guess both of us might have that in common—we both have trouble leaving work behind.”

As Fennel chuckled in agreement, dipping her snout into her drink, Judy glimpsed Laughin seated beyond Fennel’s shoulder, staring pointedly at her from his alcove seat. As their eyes met, the young coyote flickered his gaze briefly off to the side. Rachel sat rigidly, posture frozen, fixedly staring anywhere except at Judy.

As casually as she could manage, Judy swirled her stool around while leaning an arm on the bar, sweeping over the other alcoves. Some ferrets, a raccoon, a rather subdued goat, a sloth, a jackal…

She didn’t freeze her head, but kept turning it as she thought about the jackal. He (although she had a hard time telling male jackals from females) was one of the scrawniest mammals she had ever seen. He sat alone, wearing an ill-fitting off-the-rack dress shirt and black pants. Even Judy could see that the suit was too big for his shoulders and stick-thin arms. A couple of spots were visible on the prominent mane sprouting from the back of his neck. A beer glass in hand, he also seemed to be scanning the alcoves. Fortunately, they hadn’t made eye contact. No other candids were on this level except for Fennel and the two teenagers. (Were jackals actually even related to wolves or foxes? She had no idea). Even with her peripheral vision she could spot how nervous and jumpy he appeared. He toyed with his glass, tapping it impatiently as he flickered his stare back and forth between the alcoves. His gaze swept over the bar and she realized he had intense golden eyes. Very much like…

She realized Fennel had gone silent, and she felt, rather than saw, her eyes following her actions, so she didn’t risk looking back at the mammal that she was no longer certain was a jackal. She had wondered how a mammal supposedly in such trouble kept getting away with showing up in a public place. Add a $5 wig from Animalzon and there’s your answer.

“Honored patrons,” blared the loudspeaker mounted over the bar mirror, “we’re going to be taking a 30 minute break, but please stick around. The evening—or morning, if that’s how your diel cycle is set—has just started!” The assembly of lenses that encircled the stage lifted back up, followed shortly by the thick red curtain that descended to the floor. Canned music played from the speakers mounted along the wall.

Stupid that she and Nick hadn’t previously discussed a detailed plan about what to do if they encountered the mysterious coyote. Although to be fair, she’d assumed they’d be together if the contact happened, so they’d have a little planning time. Oh well.

She turned back to the bar and surreptitiously used a wall mirror to watch the jackal glance at his cellphone before placing it back on his alcove’s tabletop. Somehow she sensed she didn’t have much time before he moved on.

“Everything OK?” Fennel asked, puzzled.

“Maybe,” she replied, distracted.

The proper procedure for this situation would involve approaching the suspect, identifying herself as ZPD, and then asking to move to a more private location, where she could then ask the coyote why he had advised the Water’s family to flee their last two homes. But they couldn’t arrest him—he wasn’t even a suspect, so questioning was all they were legally allowed to do. But as she observed her jittery subject, she felt that Wiley (if that was who he was) wouldn’t be cooperative. More likely, he’d refuse to answer questions and then flee. According to Sage’s mother-in-law, this coyote had seen something he wasn’t supposed to and had become very cautious and paranoid. Why he was even risking an appearance, even in disguise, at a public venue was beyond her. She could just imagine walking up to the table, flipping open her badge, and seconds later watching helplessly as his tail disappeared through the door, with absolutely no power to stop him. Days of work destroyed in minutes, and she would be left standing in front of the table, looking clueless. A dumb bunny. With Fennel watching the whole thing from the bar, typing notes into a blog…

Before she could overthink things she snatched up her phone from the counter and texted Nick.

POSSIBLE ID MADE. MAKING FIRST CONTACT. PLEASE COME DOWN AND BACK ME UP.

“Tell you what,” she turned to her companion, inspiration striking just before she sent off the message, “looks like we have a chance to build up some mutual trust here. Since you did a favor for Nick, can you do a quick one for me?”

“Suuuuure?” she replied uncertainly.

“Go find Nick and tell him to come down and find me right away. My phone is dying.”

“And if he asks why?”

Judy grinned. “Tell him that he’s forgiven, and I want to buy him a drink he doesn’t have to wear.”

Now Fennel was the one looking a little off-balance. “No offense, but if it’s truly that personal shouldn’t you be telling him yourself?”

“So now you think we did have a falling out? Thought you foxes were sly and clever. Just give him the message and he’ll fill you in. But I’ve got to do something now.”

The vixen worked her lower jaw uncertainty, then snapped into a decision. “Sure. Have him come here?”

“Yeah, have him come here and then look around for me.”

“O.K., sure thing.” As Fennel stood up and turned toward the staircase, Judy pressed “send” on her message. O.K., Fennel, now we’ll see whether you actually deliver on your promises. At the very least, the vixen wouldn’t be able to witness her next steps. She swiveled toward the jackal’s table. She probably should wait for Nick, but at that moment the jackal glanced at his phone again and rose. And just like that, she threw caution to the wind and knew what she was going to do.

Ever since her nine-year-old ingénue debut at the Carrot Days festival, she had loved acting. She had no illusions about her core personality—she was focused, honest, and straightforward, and was comfortable with who she was. But still, a small part of her thrilled at the chance to try out a more flamboyant personality, something that could surprise even a worldly Mr. Wilde. Rachel and Laughin were about to get a show.


	14. Let's Make a Deal

Judy hurried up to the ‘jackal’. “Hello!” she chirped brightly. Up close, she could see that the jackal’s mane was just a little too even, and the spots a little too crisp. A real mane would have had stray hairs projecting out the side. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Eh, what?” replied the startled mammal, turning his head to look straight at her. With his mane now mostly hidden from view, she marveled at how much he now looked like a coyote. Amazing how such a little accessory could throw off your species identity completely.

“Mind if I sit here? Weren’t you about to leave?”

Wiley-for who else could it be?-relaxed his ears slightly. She also could see the redness in his eyes, and how rumpled the jacket was. Someone hadn’t been sleeping much recently, and probably had been sleeping in his clothes.

“Oh yeah. Help yourself.”

Mind racing, Judy said, “Too bad,” as she plopped down quickly across from the standing coyote.

“Too bad what?”

“That you’re leaving.”

Golden eyes narrowed. “Why’s zat?”

Here was the point of no return. Bring the badge out of the purse? Or try to blend in, despite what certain other mammals had hinted about her ‘cop eyes’? Why was this coyote here anyway, if he was on the run? Was he trying to meet someone. Or maybe--

She leaned forward, eyes lidded, shoulders squeezed together. “Me and my friends are here in the Nocturnal district for the first time,” she purred. “And we were looking for a little something to _enhance_ our evening here?”

Nonplussed, Wiley looked at her blankly.

“You know, help us have a good _trip?”_

Still a blank look. This guy did call himself a genius, right?

“Hey bunny, I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the one to give it to you. You might wanna go talk wid’ that goat over there. He seemed into ya earlier-“

“No, no, no, no,” Judy said, flustered. “Not that. I mean, you’ve got nice eyes and all, but I’m not really into, well, into, that sorta thing-“ she ended, lamely.

“Right. Well then. Good luck finding what you’re looking for,” Wiley said, not looking at her, sidling out of the alcove. She felt her last lead slipping away.

“There’s my favorite bun!”

Rabbit and coyote snapped their attention toward the figure rapidly approaching toward their table. “I was wondering where you’d wandered off to! Making new friends, I see!” The red fox spun and clasped Wiley’s paw, enthusiastically pumping it before the coyote had a chance to escape. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her!”

Behind Nick she could see Fennel descending the staircase from the level above, staring slack-jawed at both of them. Judy felt a small twinge of satisfaction that she’d been able to surprise the vixen, at least.

Rachel, Laughin’s friend, looked fairly incredulous as well.

“No problem,” Wiley said, withdrawing his paw fro Nick’s and resuming his exit from the table. “Now excus-“

“She’s been having a _really_ good time here. Flying _high_ , if you catch my drift,” Nick added, winking.

Wiley’s ears perked and understanding finally flared in his eyes. He peered at Judy appraisingly. Judy, meanwhile, seethed with frustration. She had dropped at least two blatant drug double-entendres that had completely flown over this coyote’s head, but within seconds Wilde had managed to capture his interest.

But… although it was hard for her professional pride to accept it, somehow Nick was much more _credible_ than she was. He was wearing the exact same clothes he’d been wearing minutes ago—she could even see the faint wet stain on his maroon shirt. Yet, instead of Nick Wilde, an entirely different fox stood in front of her. One that was still elegantly and neatly dressed, but now somehow effortlessly exuded an aura of _sleaze._ Perhaps it was the slightly too-wide smile, the too-rapidly moving eyes, the overly-forced friendliness in his voice, but here was an individual who clearly was trying to look classy while subtly failing at it. Here was a fox that she could believe had been married 14 times, and was probably working on his 15 th right now. She could see how this kind of personality was instantly credible to someone like Wiley.

“You mean-“ Wiley said,

“Yeah, like I said, she’s enjoying herself immensely. Maybe just a _tad_ too much though.”

Well, she could be a team player if she had to. She crossed her arms and acted out a flirty pout.

“Well, Mr. Fox, you had no problem giving me a bunch of --.”

“Voice a little lower miss,” Nick interrupted, the rigid smile not reaching his eyes. “Tell you what—why don’t you be a good girl and go join your friend back at the bar—“

“Awww, do I haveta?” Cue body language. _Really, Mr. Wilde?_ she glared, while fluttering her eyes and giggling. _Good girl? Really? You know you’re gonna pay for that, right Slick?_

Nick turned so that Wiley couldn’t see his face, then wrinkled his brow and shrugged one shoulder apologetically. _Sorry Carrots, you’re gonna have to follow my lead here. You got us in this situation._ “Yeah, babe. You’re still able remember your friend’s face, right?” And he gestured back at the bar, where Judy could see a certain wide-eyed vixen trying not to stare too blatantly.

“Kay!” She chirped and wobbled her way back to the bar, spring in her step, but seething in her heart. She didn’t like being dismissed like that, even if it was an act, and even though she saw the logic. It felt too much like a dismissal to meter maid duty.

“I was wondering why she was acting so strangely,” Wiley murmured as the rabbit swayed unsteadily away. “Are you two-“

“That would be a no,” Nick said, still standing. Giving a quick glance back toward the bar, he turned and leaned in quickly to Wiley, also still standing by the table. “I’m like, for lack of a better word, a _tour guide_ for various prey species to certain fun locales in the Nocturnal District, places where prey, even in groups, are slightly uncomfortable visiting without an escort.”

“I see.”

“And during these tours, I’m often requested or expected to _procure_ certain recreational items that _enhance_ their experience. Works out for everyone. My customers have a wonderful time, getting to feel adventurous and dangerous in complete safety. As you see, some even get to flirt with a big, bad fox.” He winked knowingly at the coyote. “I’ve shepherded over five hundred mammals on my ‘tours’, and I have 4.8 stars on Yelp!”

The coyote looked momentarily impressed before a hint of suspicion drifted over his features. “Funny, I don’t remember seeing you here before.”

“I’ve only recently added this site back on my ‘itinerary’. I mean, this place is pretty well known, but it can be a bit of a downer if you visit on the wrong night. You won’t believe how emotional bunnies can get, especially when they’ve taken a bit of, well, you know.” He sighed and looked speculatively at the coyote. “I’m sorry my companion bothered you. Can I at least offer you a quick drink before you head out? I assume you were heading out, right?”

Hustling was like fishing (Not that he had ever gone fishing-- but he had watched it on TV). At some point you just had to stop wiggling the hook and give the mark a chance to bite, otherwise you started to look suspicious. So Nick cocked his head, taking in the cheap rumpled clothes of his companion, and wondered whether he was going to be able to guide the coyote to a more private area for discussion, or whether he was going to be forced to display his badge in front of the clientele, something neither he, Judy nor Wiley would appreciate. He was not sure why Judy had chosen to risk accusations of entrapment , but it was time to see whether her gamble even had a chance of paying off. So he leaned back, feigned a disinterested boredom as the coyote looked him over, and tried not to hold his breath.

“Sure, I gotta couple of minutes,” Wiley decided, slowly sitting back down, another glance over his shoulder. “I was gonna head over to Night Scents, but they’re not even ramping up for another hour or so.”

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Nick said. “Excuse me,” he added, aggressively grasping a passing server by the sleeve, “two Dos Equestries, please.” He then plopped down onto the cushions opposite his target, and checked over his shoulder for Judy. She was talking earnestly to two mammals, but he couldn’t tell whom she was talking to because Fennel was partially blocking his view. “Gotta admit, I’m a little jealous of her,” he said, wagging his head nostalgically. “She managed to get completely high off a single dab of Eggstacy that wouldn’t even give me a buzz now.” He leaned back against the cushions. “Seems like these recreational, um, items, just don’t last as long as they used to. The crap I scrape up now keeps getting longer and scarier names but shorter and shorter effects. Don’t even want to think about the side effects of some of these factory chemicals.”

Wiley still shot a glance or two at the exit doors on the level, but Nick could _see_ the greed warring with the paranoia over his face.

“I might have something-“ the coyote began, but stopped as their server swung by with the beers. “You say something?” Nick asked, after dropping a few bills on the server’s try.

“Well, I might have a link to something that might help you out,” the coyote said quietly, lowering the light at their table.

“What’dya mean?”

“So happens I know of this product that gives you some amazing experiences. My species has used it for generations…”

“You jackals have secrets?”

“No, not jackals. But just hear me out.”

Now it was Nick’s turn to feign looking around guiltily, and he mirrored his target, leaning forward and murmuring back.

“Not interested in glue, buddy….”

“No, nothing like that. It’s a natural product, no chemicals.”

“All natural, huh? Gotta say, that sounds a little strange to me. What is it?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” And Wiley tapped a few buttons on his phone, then held up a photo to Nick.

“Mushrooms? Seriously?”

“Dead serious. A small nip of this will keep your clients happy all evening.” He leaned back. “Can’t give too much, though. Otherwise they may try to jump off the roof and fly.”

_Oh, I believe you,_ thought the fox. “Where are you getting these?”

“I grow them myself, around the Nocturnal District.” He swapped another photo on the phone. “Here’s one of my ‘gardens’, so to speak.”

“Garden,” Nick responded, amused. “Have to admit, this is the first time I’ve heard of a predator tending a garden. ‘Fraid that stuffing shrooms doesn’t sound awfully appealing to me. However,” he said, raising a paw to forestall Wiley’s next words, “I wouldn’t be the customer here, and who knows? Maybe bunnies would be into a fungus. I’ve seen them eat weirder crap. Mind if I take a little survey?” he asked, half-turning toward the bar.

“Sure.”

Nick finished turning around and hissed in a high-pitched sing-song voice, “Oh bunneeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

* * *

Judy was not in the best mood as she returned to the bar, and seeing Fennel sitting there, staring at her eagerly, bushy tail erect and alert, didn’t improve it either.

“That was very interesting to watch,” the vixen said. “I didn’t even know you cops were even legally allowed to behave that way. Wait, wait-- I’m being good,” she hastened to add, “I promise I won’t even ask who you’re trying to talk to, at least for now.”

“’Preciate it,” growled the bunny, who had had one ear straining to catch Wiley and Nick’s conversation six alcoves down. She was pretty sure she had spotted Rachel and Laughin’ giggling into their paws as she had stumbled by.

“Well, maybe you won’t mind being distracted for a moment. Did you see Sheila the squirrel and Zilda on stage a little while ago?”

“Yep, sure did,” Judy did, slipping back on a polite expression, and shaking off her irritation at being brushed aside by Nick.

“Well, there they are.”

Judy blinked, confused for a moment, until she looked around and spotted two small figures being carried toward the bar by an aardvark. Both were dressed in faux-silk robes displaying a variety of natural motifs—creeks, trees, clouds, etc. The aardvark, obviously an employee, deposited the pair on top of the bar counter, his beady eyes studying the patrons for signs of trouble. She immediately recognized a bouncer and bodyguard, but her attention was drawn to the diminutive performers.

“Oh my goodness! Hello, Sheila, Zilda. I really enjoyed both of your performances.”

“Why hello,” said one of the figures, the small flying squirrel that that shocked Judy less than half an hour earlier. “We’ve been working our way down from the top level to say hello and thanks for stopping by.”

“I wasn’t sure you knew, but sometimes the performers will work their way down the levels after their act, so we can show our appreciation more directly,” Fennel leaned in, whispering. Judy then noticed that the squirrel was carrying a set of Zootopian dollars on her back, like a peasant hoisting a bunch of kindling back to her hut.

“I’m Judy. It’s my first time here!”

To her astonishment the older playpus froze in place for a moment, as if terrified, but almost instantly a gracious smile reappeared on her face. “Of course we know who you are,” Zilda said. “Thanks for helping make Zootopia a better place.”

Puzzled by Zilda’s initial reaction, Judy automatically replied, “I’m just trying to do my job at the ZPD, along with everyone else.” Cautiously, she turned to Sheila, scrutinizing the squirrel’s posture for similar unease. “Believe it or not, earlier today I had some training where I had to use a parachute to glide in a wind tunnel, like you get to do every day. Gotta say, it’s a heck of a lot of fun!”

“Isn’t it?” smiled Sheilia, betraying no sign of trepidation at Judy’s presence. “I still get a kick outta shocking people. Once an elephant nearly flattened his date trying to lean over the stage and catch me.”

As the squirrel turned to Fennel to introduce herself, Judy, still puzzled by Zilda’s quickly masked fright, couldn’t help sneaking a stare at Zilda’s webbed feet as the older performer cautiously balanced herself on top of the bar.

“I take it you’ve never seen a platypus before, hon?” she told Judy, now seemingly fully recovered. There was a bit of Fru-Fru’s manner in her mannerisms and voice. Although Fru-Fru never sported a duck bill.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Judy hurriedly assured her. “I had heard about marsupials, but you’re the first one I’ve ever met. I’m sorry about your species being endangered and all-“ She hesitated. Was it rude to bring the subject up?

“Actually, dear, I think I’m actually a monotreme, but I appreciate the sentiment.” She gave the young rabbit a coy wink.

Judy paused, deciding how to phrase the delicate question. “My partner, over there, who’s a little preoccupied right now, told me earlier that he saw you dance with your husband a few years ago.”

Sheila looked over at her co-performer, concerned, and Zilda looked down. “Yes, Zordo and I performed together. I’m afraid he’s been - ill - for quite some time now.”

Despite that news, Judy felt some relief: Zilda wasn’t the last of her kind, after all.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Hope he feels better.”

“Yes, we all do,” Shelia added, giving her small companion an impulsive hug. “I’m sure he’ll be back someday.”

“Yes, I hope so,” Zilda said with a watery smile, and Judy felt a shiver run up her spine. Her time with both the ZPD and Nick had taught her a thing or two about lying mammals, and the two mammals in front of her seemed to be avoiding eye contact, while twitching their tails a little more often than she’d expect. There were certain habits all mammals shared when lying. Even, apparently, mammals that laid eggs.

“Anyway”, continued Zilda, “What do you think of The Last Dance? I’m surprised you’re here by yourself; usually we only see bunnies as part of larger groups.”

“Honestly? I feel like such a country bunny,” Judy smiled. “Tonight’s my first visit to the Nocturnal District, period.”

“Really?” squeaked Shelia. “Well I envy you. You’ve got many weeks of fun ahead of you, assuming of course you can keep yourself awake that late.” She stretched with a small yawn, exposing impressive incisors. “Speaking of awake, we’re going to say a quick hello to everyone else on this level and before moving to the ground floor. Thanks again for stopping by, and pleased to meet you Judy!”

As Judy waved to the departing pair, she heard a faint sound in her ear.

“Oh bunneeeeeeeeeeeeee….”

Glancing back over her shoulder she saw Nick waving her back over, while behind him an uncertain Wiley cast sharp glances at the surrounding alcoves. Slightly mollified about Nick’s earlier brusque brush-off, she let her face slip back into a dopey grin and wandered toward the predator pair. The fact that they had found Wiley filled her with frenetic energy, and she felt slightly mischievous, even a little giddy, even though she was pretty confident that the effects of the Garden Gimlet had been neutralized by her fast metabolism.

Skipping slightly along the wire barrier that kept patrons from falling onto the stage, she plopped herself down next to Nick and lay her head on his shoulder, her large eyes looking up at him in mock adoration.

“So, foxie, make up your mind, why dontcha? First you say ‘go there’, now you say ‘come here’. Why so sly and sneaky? Oh yeah, you’re a fox!” She tossed out a high-pitched giggle.

The fox raised an eyebrow. _Laying it on a little thick, Carrots, aren’t you?_ “Well, I’ve been talking with your new friend here, and he says he may have something that might make the night even more exciting. I wanted to know what you thought.”

“HHHHhmmm?” she said, prompting him to continue.

“Well, as your guide around town this evening, I’m always looking for new, um, experiences for my clients. Like what I’ve found for you so far?”

So that was their cover story. “Oh yeah, I’m having a GREAT time! But I feel so SAD for some of the animals here!”

Nick cast a condescending ‘what-did-I-tell-you’ glance over to Wiley, who had sat back down, looking a bit puzzled. Seeing Nick’s tail flick up, Judy grabbed it, then sniffled into it, and then faked blowing her nose into it. Take that, Wilde, for dismissing me like a young kit.

Nick nearly yelped as he yanked away his tail. “Careful sweetie, or I’m gonna have to cut you off.”

“Don’t think so,” she smiled smugly. She turned toward Wiley, leaned in, and mock-whispered. “He needs my money to pay off all his ex-wives!” She wasn’t going to let Nick off the hook _that_ easily. After all, she wasn’t a saint.

If she was trying to fluster Nick, it didn’t work. “Yeah, I don’t need your money that much,” rejoined Nick dryly. “If that upsets you, you can throw darts at my photo later.” Wiley, sitting on the opposite side of the table, kept switching his gaze between the two of them, as if watching a tennis match. Nick cleared his throat pointedly. “So, cottontail, what do you think of this?” He gestured to Wiley, and partners watched closely as the "jackal" typed in a passcode and then cautiously handed over his phone. Unlike his drug addict sister, the coyote apparently could afford a fairly decent smartphone, one that he had programmed with a passcode. If she found something interesting on the phone, she'd have to try and text it unobtrusively. She remembered from her evidence training that a locked phone was notoriously hard to hack, even for the ZPD.

The lighting in the photo was dim, but Judy would tell it had been taken in some sort of small cavern. Phosphorescent blue streaks covered the ceiling and walls. Hanging from the ceiling was a series of ropes, and growing on the ropes were lumpy assemblages that she guessed had to be mushrooms. She wrinkled her note automatically at the memory of her last experience with the mushrooms, but quickly smoothed her muzzle before the coyote noticed. The date on the photo was about two days ago. Surreptitiously she used her thumb to swipe backward in time through a bunch of other photos.

“Wow, are those _Boletus mirabilis_?”

“Um, you mean mushrooms?”

She giggled again. “That’s what I just said, silly!”

“Yep. He says that they have a deep spiritual significance to his people, and that if you eat a small dose, you will have pleasant visions.”

Pleasant visions, my fluffy tail, she thought acridly.

“Oh my! Could these actually be _Tuber aestivum?_ ” she sighed.

“Umm…” Nick said, looking honestly bewildered, seeing his confused expression mirrored in Wiley’s.

“Truffles, silly!”

“No, not truffles,” Wiley said, “though that’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Well he said you could eat them.”

“Not eat them, eat them,” growled Nick. “I mean you eat them in order to have, um, a good time. You know, go on a good trip.”

“Oooooooaaaaaaahhhhh.” She had now swiped a week back on the phone. The coyote was not into selfies, apparently; nothing but one image of mushrooms after another. He seemed to have been rather creative in making use of nearly any abandoned or unused space underground. She thought she saw a few garages and storage sheds, and spaces under wooden foundations.

“I dunno,” she twisted her face into an expression of doubt. “Are they organic?”

“What?” said Nick.

“You know, organic? We bunnies hate to eat things that aren’t natural, O.K.?”

Both bunny and fox turned to look at a rather bemused Wiley, who quickly recovered and found his inner salesmammal.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the thing. This is your original natural product, grown with natural cave minerals and water. Nothing like the typical … stuff you take, which is made in a beaker. Geez, with your regular… stuff… you’ve got no idea what kind of crap they’re putting in there, whether its diluted with some kind of household poison, or even whether the lab was even clean….”

“Jeez, I know, right? So where are you growing these?” She perked up her ears in interest, not just at his words, but she had finally come across a photo that wasn’t just mushrooms. True, it was only a puddle next to a patch of mushrooms, but at least the puddle was reflecting a neon sign. And there also seemed to be a bunch of footprints left in the muddy ground surrounding the scene—

“Well, the huge caves in the Nocturnal District were created by water, right? That water had to go somewhere, so there are these extensive tunnels cross crossing underneath the cavern floor. It’s like swiss cheese right underneath our feet. While some rodents have some suburbs down there, most of them are too wet and muddy to be homes and so are unused. I simply find spots that are supplied by slow-flowing water and my, er, crop flourishes naturally.”

She stared at the photo more closely. The reflection of the neon sign in the puddle was partially blocked. Maybe the photo was taken near a tunnel entrance, and the entrance looked at a building with a sign?

“Look, tell you what,” Wiley said, reaching a paw into his lapel pocket and pulling out a small, clear, sandwich bag. “I really gotta run, but why don’t you have a little sample? On the house. And we can catch up here, another time.”

Judy reflexively recoiled at the sight of the powder, mixed with chunks of mushroom, and she forced down the bile that threatened to rise from her stomach.

Nick’s initially amused expression vanished instantly into one of concern, before he quickly masked it with indignation.

“Hey buddy, watch it! Not here. Not so obvious! We’ll get blacklisted if the management gets wind of it.”

“Yeah, well sorry, I’ll be back another night.”

“Tell you what,” Judy interjected, fighting to keep a shaky tone out of her voice. “I’m getting bored here anyway. Maybe we can move outside or somewhere a little more private?”

Even as she said it, something in her tone must have been off, because the disguised coyote looked at her with fresh suspicion, staring searchingly into her eyes. He snapped his head to look in the direction of his nephew and his companion, and his eyes narrowed and his frown deepened. Previously, she hadn’t seen him even glimpse over toward his nephew.

“Tell ya what. I really gotta get going. Why don’t you think it over, fox, and just keep an eye out for me the next couple of days.” He started to stand up, but then bumped into two mammals standing behind him.

Judy had seen them enter moments earlier through the exit doors on this level. A badger and, ironically, what seemed to be a real jackal. Both had sport coats, unbuttoned so that they revealed ties and suspenders, slightly mismatched in style and color so that they wouldn’t obviously be associated with each other. She felt Nick tense next to her as they both noted bulges in the coat pockets. Someone seemed to have carefully chosen these individuals to be as intimidating as possible, while still meeting the size requirements of this level of the Last Dance. The jackal was slightly taller than Nick or Wiley, while the badger, while short, was stocky and barrel chested. Both looked like mammals not used to being shoved around.

The jackal’s claw landed on the coyote’s shoulder, forcing him to sit back down. “Why the hurry, cousin?” he giggled, with no trace of humor.

“Cousin?” said the coyote, fur bristling in fear.

The jackal continued on. “You’re a jackal, right? So, who’s your pack? Is it the Kubaki’s? I’m Limbasa myself.” The jackal made a show of looking Wiley up and down. “I mean, you are a jackal, ain’t ya?”

Paws still frozen on Wiley’s phone, Judy noticed some movement in the shadows by the exit doors on the level. A slender marten stood up on his hind legs and firmly pulled the doors shut.

“Tell you what. You seem to be in a hurry. We’ll walk out with you. Save you time.”

Eyes dilated in fear, Wiley turned toward the partners seated across from him. “Actually, I was just having a discussion with these two-“

“Which you’re going to have to finish another time,” the badger said firmly. He jerked his head toward Judy’s paws. “That your phone?” Without waiting for an answer, he said, “Please give it to me now, miss.”

Cursing to herself, Judy tried to text the photo to herself without looking at the phone. “Just give me one more second to look—“

“ _Now_ , miss.”

Nick shifted slightly next to Judy, and she sized up the relative positions of the two animals, and how quickly she might be able to reach each one. Stupidly, her badge was stuck in her purse. Nick’s paw started drifting down to his back pocket.

The badger shoved a paw into his bulging pocket. “Paws on the table, please.” Nick did so. 

The jackal tightened his grip on the coyote, and she tightened her grip on the phone. She could almost taste the tension building around the table. Thus it was odd that at that moment Nick decided to languidly stretch, cracking his back and twisting his hips, as if he had just awoken from a night on a couch. All that was missing was a yawn. During all his gyrations he kept his paws on the table. Was he trying to create a distraction? She didn’t think it was working; it just seemed to be annoying the jackal.

A faint tinkling reached her ears, and she turned her head slightly, spotting the marten, now standing in front of the fire exit, back to them. Eyes widening, she realized that the clinking sound came from a chain. In the blink of an eye she scooped up Wiley’s phone, stood up, and hopped clear of the alcove.

“I said, _give me the phone,_ you stupid bunny,” hissed the badger, advancing menacingly.

She glanced over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rachel standing next to her table, muzzle quivering, with Laughin’ placing a nervous restraining paw on her forearm. Fennel, by contrast, was nowhere to be seen.

“So who are you guys?” asked Nick calmly, rocking his weight left and right, like a kit eager to go to the bathroom.

“None of your business. And stop squirming around. You’re pissing me off.”

“Sure thing,” grinned Nick, and gave his tail a sharp flick. His badge flopped onto the table. Apparently he had managed to rub it out of his rear pocket while keeping his paws on the table. Pretty slick, Nick.

With one claw the fox flicked the badge open. Even under the low-key lighting of the club, the words TRUST, INTEGRITY, and BRAVERY glimmered dimly yet clearly. With a slight shift in position, all traces of sleaze evaporated from Nick’s persona. His smile hardened, his posture stiffened, and his green eyes blazed with righteous authority. No longer a fox with multiple ex-wives—here was a mammal one could believe was once a nine year-old Ranger Scout. Here was the once and future Nick Wilde, and all the sordid details of his marriage-scammed past instantly became irrelevant to Judy at that moment. She felt her heart flutter slightly as she unconsciously clasped the phone closer to her chest. Wiley looked like he couldn’t decide whether he was relieved or frightened, while their two antagonists bared their teeth and squinted their eyes, as if trying to stare into a suddenly-revealed sun.

Despite the rough situation they found themselves in, Judy cracked a small smile at her partner, and his mouth twitched back a small acknowledgement. And just like that, as if a window shade had descended over a bright window, the fox changed yet again, slouching back comfortably into his seat, nonchalantly surveying the other mammals in the alcove as if he were simply figuring how to place a poker bet amongst drinking buddies.

“ZPD,” Nick grinned conversationally, with the slightly triumphant air of someone who had just played a four-of-a-kind. “We gonna do this the easy way, or the hard way?”

And that’s when the firebomb detonated.


	15. Texting can be Dangerous

**Author’s Note: As a convenience to the reader’s memory, here is the description of the layout of the Last Dance club as described in Chapter 12, published three months ago:**

_“The building’s interior was a series of annular rings stacked on top of each other, with each ring above being a slightly smaller diameter than the ring below it. All the rings had balconies that faced a center circular stage, which was currently completely shrouded by a cylindrical curtain that ran all the way to the roof. Tables and bars were arranged along the perimeter of each ring, so there was no bad seat in the house. The scale of the tables and furniture decreased with every floor, so that while elephants and zebras sat on the ground floor, looking eye level with the stage, kangaroo rats and gerbils sat comfortably near chandelier height. Judy felt like she was sitting inside a giant beehive, or wedding cake.”_

**And yes, there will be a quiz on this later….**

* * *

**T** he flash of light arrived first, forcing Judy to instinctively clamp her eyes shut. A long bang, followed by a heated blast of air, arrived a fraction of a second later, tipping her off balance and knocking her down next to the railing. Wiley’s phone clattered out of her paw across the floor.

Dimly she realized that the explosion must have taken place on the bottom level; flames licked up from beneath the railing, but at the moment nothing seemed to be on fire on their level, although the billowing smoke from below was quickly reducing visibility to the point that she could barely see the stage curtain. A high pitched-keening penetrated through the ringing in her ears, the deafening aftereffects of the explosion. Moments later keening became differentiated into clusters of yells, screams, yelps, and barks as all the animals on their level scrambled out of their alcoves and rushed toward the two exit doors sitting on opposite sides of the level. The main lights vanished, and emergency red lights immediately powered up, casting bloody shadows everywhere.

The badger, still with paw in pocket and fire reflected in his eyes, moved forward to stamp on the phone. At the same time, Judy recognized the older goat from earlier as he rushed toward them in a panic. The badger glanced sideways at him, and Judy grabbed the chance to take a sideways slide across the floor and side-kick the phone into Wiley’s alcove, underneath the circular table. She flipped over just in time to avoid a small sharp hoof slamming into her thigh. Instead, it trod on part of her lavender dress, tearing it. Her mother was going to give her an earful about that. 

A chimney of smoke continued rushing up from the lower level and curled over the railing. The sound of coughing and choking appeared along the assorted yells and whimpers arising from the scrum of animals clumping around the locked exit doors. The doors groaned, and the screaming increased in volume. Judy saw Zilda’s assistant and presumed bodyguard, the aardvark, crumple to the floor as the small marten, balanced on the exit door handle, punched him between the eyes. Why in the world would anyone lock and block the exit? No time to think that through: she saw two small figures tumble out of the aardvark’s paws and disappear amongst the assorted legs surging toward the doors.

She had no choice. Saving lives came first. “Nick,” she hollered, jumping up and rushing toward the door. “Take care of Wiley! Get the phone!”

“Yeah, no problem, Carrots,” Nick muttered sarcastically, distracted by a furious game of footsie he was playing under the table with the jackal, in an attempt to gain control of the small smart phone.

* * *

Judy leapt onto the goat’s shoulder at the rear of the crowd, and after bouncing off a few more shoulders she perched on an antelope’s neck. Peering down, she saw the squirrel and platypus cowering against the aardvark, who was clutching his face and writhing in pain. Leaping down to the floor, she dropped on all fours over the two diminutive endangered mammals, just as a claw landed on her lower back, splaying her legs down. Fortunately, she managed to maintain a pushup with her upper body and avoided crushing the pair beneath her. Whatever was on her tumbled off, and she scooped Zilda and Sheila against her chest, feeling their heartbeats racing through the remains of her dress. She caught a glimpse of white and gray and saw Rachel and Laughin shove their way out of the red gloom past the surrounding animals. Judy instantly leaped onto Laughin’s shoulder, and then climbed onto Rachel’s back.

“Sorry!” She panted, as Rachel started. “Shove that marten out of the way!”

The wolf reared to her full height, grabbed the marten by the shirt cuffs, and tossed him over the crowd and away from the door. 

“Stay here!” the rabbit told Zilda, who was tightly hugging a near-panicked Sheila. After settling the small pair on Rachel’s shoulder, she leapt onto the chain threaded through the door handle. Fennel was already there, and Judy uncharitably thought it wasn’t surprising the vixen was already by the door. The reporter’s orange sash was torn and her green dress disheveled from being slammed against the door. Not that Judy’s lavender dress was looking much better. Giving it up as a lost cause, she ripped off the skirt portion, fully exposing her pants and fanny pack. Much more practical.

With the wolf providing a little shelter against the surging group, the bunny and vixen both seized the chain and tried to drag it out through the handles.

“It’s gotta lock on it!” Fennel cried, throwing up her paws.

Judy tried to remember where the fire extinguisher was on this level. Maybe if she could get to it she could smash—

“Axe!” she said, and instantly realized—

“Bar!” Fennel shouted back, and both turned and clambered up a beleaguered Rachel. Leaning over her bejeweled ear, Judy shouted, “We’re getting the ax at the bar!” She then followed after Fennel, who was crawling over the backs of panicking animals, looking like a swimmer in a rough ocean.

Judy timed a couple of well-placed hops and cleared the crowd, somersaulting to a stop onto the floor. Fennel crashed onto the floor next to her, her nose bleeding, but immediately stood up and followed Judy toward the bar.

* * *

“Yeah, no problem, Carrots,” muttered Nick, as she dashed away, leaving him to play footsie with the jackal over the phone underneath the table. The badger didn’t follow Judy, but instead dove under the table. Wiley the coyote responded by raising his legs in alarm, but Nick reacted by whipping his bushy tail under the table, giving the badger a good wipe or two across his face, blinding him. The jackal meanwhile jerked his head around to spot Judy leaving, so Nick took advantage of his distraction to aim another a hard kick. The jackal winced in pain as Nick’s foot sunk into something sensitive, and Nick allowed himself a little smile. Wiley stood up on the chair and tried to crawl backward up the alcove wall, with little luck.

“Put your paws up and place them on the table. You’re all under arrest!” Nick shouted. In response, the jackal stood up, still wincing from Nick’s kick, but towering over the fox and cracking his knuckles. Nick shrugged. It had been worth a shot.

The badger’s growl thundered underneath the table, causing it to shake, and Nick instinctively lashed out his tail again. A moment later he felt one of his paws brush the phone, but before he could lean over and grab it, he felt the badger bite his tail. Yowling, he smashed out with his other foot, clocking the badger’s muzzle dead-on. It was like kicking a sidewalk curb, and about as effective; the stocky beast simply lunged further underneath the table towards the phone. Acting instinctively, Nick sliced his paw across the ground and kicked the phone like a hockey pack back outside the table. The phone skidded across the ground and stopped a few feet from the railing, silhouetted by flames rising from the level below.

Nick leapt sideways from the alcove and scrambled across the floor toward the phone. The badger bumped his head trying to back up, but the jackal was in a better position and jumped towards the railing as well, Wiley temporarily forgotten. Both animals pounced on the phone, which ricocheted out of their claws and careened underneath the railing. The fox caught a glimpse of the phone’s logo--“ACME Inc.”--and then watched in despair as the phone arced through the smoke, then hit the red ceiling-to-floor curtain that hid the central stage. Like a cub riding the steepest slide on the planet, the phone slid down the folds of the curtain and disappeared into the thick smoke obscuring the floor of the club’s bottom level, making a faint clatter as it hit the floor.

Nick’s ear twitched as he heard an uncomfortably familiar click, and he rolled over to see a bloody and bruised marten, one eye swollen shut, aiming a gun at him, releasing the safety.

Before he even had a chance to panic, a grey blur kicked the gun out of the marten’s paw, followed by an orange blur that knocked the injured mammal backward. The marten had barely staggered upright when a large blur plucked the marten off the floor and slammed him against the wall. Nick turned and saw Judy, Fennel, and Laughin’s girlfriend dashing towards the bar. Something on the wolf’s head looked unnaturally lumpy before he realized that two small mammals were clinging for their lives to the wolf’s mane.

“Thanks, Carrots,” he murmured, heart pounding up his throat, struggling to stand. He saw Wiley sink back down from the wall and then try to scramble out of the alcove. The scrawny coyote failed to see the badger until he grabbed his foot, tripping Wiley and causing him to face plant on the floor. The badger stood up, nostrils streaming with blood, and spotted Nick leaning against the railing. Snarling, he shoved his paw into his jacket pocket, and started hoisting out his own revolver.

* * *

Judy landed on top of the bar, underneath the ax Fennel had pointed out earlier, and then leapt as high as she could. Her paws closed around the wooden handle, and she did a chin-up to plant her feet on each side of the handle. Her heart sank as she realized it was bolted in place. Fennel scrambled up next to her, and wordlessly both strained to budge the ancient ax. Judy heard it creak and saw a holding bracket warp, but it didn’t come loose.

Rachel strode up to the bar, Zilda and Sheila now nestled in her mane. 

“Hi,” she said shyly, in a dainty voice that seemed ridiculously out of place on a tall timber wolf. “Can I help?—“

“-Please!” gasped Judy-

“-Ax!” snarled Fennel, ears flattened, both nostils still bleeding, and teeth gleaming red under the emergency lighting, as she gave another tug.

“Oh yeah, sure!” With one cream-colored paw Rachel swept her passengers off her back onto the bar counter, and with the other paw she reached over and gave a hard tug to the ax, breaking off one holding bracket. With a sharp snarl, she braced her lower limbs on the rough bar countertop, grabbed the ax with both paws, and wrenched it free with a sharp CRACK that almost sounded like a gunshot.

“Follow me!” shouted Judy, placing the two tiny performers on her back, before she and Fennel scrambled back on all fours through the smoke toward the crowd surrounding the nearest fire door, passing Laughin running in the other direction, back toward Rachel. Rachel, however, was close on Judy’s heels and sped past the flummoxed coyote, who scrambled to reverse his course.

“OUT OF THE WAY!” hollered the rabbit, standing up and whipping her badge out of her fanny pack. The rear of the crowd turned their heads, then scrambled frantically out of the way, causing the front of the crowd to turn and look, and then scatter as well. A rather-unsteady looking marten remained by the door, knife in hand, but as he sighted Judy the knife slid out of his paws onto the floor, and he fled.

Judy was momentarily impressed that she was so intimidating, until she glanced over her shoulder at Rachel behind her. The young wolf, with her native jewelry, rainbow shawl, huge snarl, and large axe, looked like some vengeful ancient warrior princess emerging from the smoke. Laughin followed behind her, both enraptured and worried. Judy and Fennel ducked to the side just before the tall female slammed the axe onto the chain, busting the links apart. She then leaned back, ax in both hands, and smashed the doors open with her foot. Judy had an instant to reflect that the long-dead pygmy elephant chief would have been pleased to see his ax put to such good use, before the crowd, moving as a single wave, crashed through the door and swept up her, Zilda, Shelia, and Fennel. Judy frantically clawed her way up a beaver’s shoulder and rode on top of the shoulders of the crowd like a surfer battling a crashing wave, as the panicking mass of mammals stampeded down the stairs toward the street exit doors on the bottom level. She managed to grab an overhead EXIT sign and watched as the crowd swarmed underneath her and outside in less than a minute. Judy saw Fennel, Rachel, and Laughin hurl themselves into a side niche along the stairway a moment before a second wave of frantic animals from both their level and the upper levels swamped the stairway.

As the mob disappeared outside, Judy was relieved to see no trampled bodies on the stairs, and cautiously lowered herself down off the sign, the trembling platypus and squirrel clinging their claws on her back for dear life.

“Wow,” squeaked Sheila hoarsely, “you saved our lives.”

“This young lady did,” Judy said, beaming at Rachel as she and her companions cautiously approached them. “We all did,” she added, nodding toward Fennel’s ruined dress and torn sash. She handed her precious cargo to Laughin. “I’ve got to go back in and find your uncle, Laffie, but I want everyone to go outside and wait for the fire department.”

“I’ll come with you!” Laughin coughed. “Me too!” Rachel squeaked, displaying an unnervingly toothy grin.

“No,” commanded Judy. “These mammals, whoever they are, might be after you too, Laughin, and I’m not risking taking you into a burning building! Especially as you’re underage!”

“We look old enough to be here,” pouted Laughin, folding his arms. “And we’re old enough to help.”

Time to pull a Wilde trick. “And I appreciate it, sweetie,” she smiled, turning to Rachel. “But you can best help me by taking these folks here to safety. Rachel, I need you to keep them and your fella out of danger. Can you protect him?”

Eyes blazing with excitement, the young wolf scooped up the shell-shocked platypus and squirrel with one paw, and with the other grasped the young coyote possessively by the scruff of his neck. Despite being taller and heavier than Nick, Laughin found himself dangling like a wayward kit next to his taller companion.

“Put me down,” he growled helplessly as the wolf spun around and went through the doors.

“Stay near the fire engine! We’ll find you later!” Judy yelled at her departing back.

“Well, I think she might be into him after all,” drawled Fennel. “Think his ego’s gonna be pretty bruised, though.”

“I can live with that,” smiled Judy, then realized Fennel had vanished. Turning, she saw the female fox dashing back up the stairs. “Wait! You need to get out of here too!”

Fennel crouched on the stair, looking back at Judy with a feral look in her eyes that was only highlighted by the red emergency lighting. “Nick is still in there,” she barked, and then caught herself. “And I’ve forgotten to take video,” she said with more of a devil-may-care attitude. “So arrest me later.” And she continued up the stairs back toward the fire door.

Not to be outdone in terms of speed, Judy dashed back up after her. “Fine! Help me find Wiley too!” Recalling Nick’s text message (WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HER?) earlier that evening, she realized that although she was still suspicious of Fennel, she now had a bit of grudging respect for the vixen’s apparent courage—or foolhardiness.

The pair burst back through the door to their original level, holding their breath through the thickening smoke. They dropped down to all fours to inhale some cleaner air and get better visibility. On the opposite side of their level, they saw the jackal’s tail disappear through the second sets of fire doors, and hurried in pursuit.

* * *

Guns with bullets were technically illegal in Zootopia, but Nick wasn’t about to try issuing a citation to the badger. No time to grab his tranq-gun from his own fanny pack; no cover nearby. Before the badger had even leveled his revolver the fox was sprinting toward the railing, did a last-moment zig-zag, and leapt laterally from the railing through the opaque smoke-filled air and onto the curtain, mimicking the route of Wiley’s phone. He frantically scrambled at the curtains and felt the fur on his head ruffle as a bullet punctured through the curtain a foot off to his side. Shoving a claw into the smoking hole, he managed to remain suspended against the curtain for a moment, before his claw sliced through the hole and tore downwards. Desperately he clawed at the curtain with his paws and feet and managed to snag a couple more places, rending the fabric apart as he rapidly approached the bottom. As soon as his rump hit the floor he spun around, squinting against the numerous isolated spot fires. This bottom level was clearly reserved for the largest animals, and chairs twice his height lay scattered and overturned in front of him. He spotted Wiley’s phone a dozen feet away, pounced on it, then dashed behind the curtain, in case the badger was at the railing, aiming at him down below. The wave of heat that was baking him slackened slightly as the curtain fell back into place.

He was now standing in the exact center of the Last Dance, the cylindrical curtain surrounding him on all sides. He glanced up and saw the entire five-story curtain suspended from a large ring, suspended in turn from a single point on the roof. He heard the whizzing sound of another bullet and dashed toward the opposite end of the stage. He found an opening in the curtain and poked his head through.

Through the distortion of the fire’s heat he could make out a bar counter with a rough-hewn top similar to the levels above, but scaled much larger. He had a moment to register another fire exit before his eyes caught motion off to the side. Instinctively ducking down to the floor he felt, rather than heard, a bullet pass where his head had been a moment before. He saw a well-dressed horse wearing a breathing mask framed in the exit doorway, and he rolled back under the curtain, but not before he could hear hooves clomping across the floor toward him. Four animals coming for one coyote—who’d of thought?

He saw somebody trying to struggle through the curtain at his original entry point. He was trapped. He glanced down at the phone, making sure it was still unlocked, then selected the photo Judy had been staring at. He pressed the message icon and then saw a paw break through the curtain, forcing him to pocket the phone.

He spotted a large fold in the curtain and vanished into it. “It’s curtains for Wilde!” he thought, as he dug his claws into the fabric and clamped them together, along with his feet. Just like climbing a rope at the Academy, he thought. He hoped no one, friend or foe, would ever see him do this, because he knew how much he looked like a cat right now. He shimmied steadily up the fold, hoping the wiggling fabric wouldn’t betray his precise location. He struggled not to cough nor sneeze from the thickening smoke.

The entire curtain swayed for a moment as the horse broke through it. Nick froze in place, momentarily indecisive about whether to continue up or not. Suddenly he felt a huge downward jerk on the curtain, and felt the entire assembly lurch downward. Somebody was trying to pull it down! He began scrambling up quickly. Another gunshot followed, but before his brain could register the fact he felt the red fabric go slack in his paws and realized that the curtain was in free fall. Using the last bit of his forward momentum he pushed himself sideways out of the curtain before he was crushed by it. As he flailed downward he saw one of the mid-air platforms suspended next to his head, and he managed to catch a paw on the edge. Looking up, he saw the curtain collapsing all around him, the mouth at the top of the curtain barreling toward him as if he were a train about to emerge from a dark tunnel. With a loud WHOOMP a fifteen-foot mound of cloth collapsed onto the floor in a circle surrounding him, and a wall of heat and light slammed into Nick as he scrambled back on top of a transparent circular platform that Zilda had danced on not twenty minutes earlier, sitting at the same height as the second level of the Last Dance. Upward and downward spiraling ladders connected his platform with the stage below and additional platforms above his head.

Another loud CRACK pierced the air and the clear plastic underneath his feet suddenly erupted into a large spider web of cracks as the bullet punched through. Beneath those cracks he could see the badger, now struggling out of the collapsed curtain, lift his revolver again. Nick leapt from the platform across to the top of the curtain pile. Glancing down, he saw that the horse that had ripped down the curtain had clearly not thought his plan through, as he lay dazed on the floor, the large pile of curtains covering everything but his head and one hoof. Raising his gaze outside of the fabric circle, he spotted the bar counter he had just seen moments before. Stumbling down the other side of the fabric wall, he dashed through the blazing heat, scampered up a bar stool, and jumped onto the counter next to a bathtub-sized bucket of ice. Finding temporary shelter behind the bucket, he whipped out the phone and attempted to text the photo to himself. He wished the coyote hadn't placed a passcode on this thing, then he could have just pocketed it for later perusal. But as it was, who know how much time he had left before the phone locked up- Drat, he pressed a wrong digit. Unfortunately he wasn’t familiar with this ACME operating system and had to hunt for the delete key. There it wa-

CANCEL.

Arrgh! Wrong button. Now he would have to start over. Clamping a paw over his face in frustration, Nick looked into the bar mirror and saw the badger appear at the crest of the curtain mound. Now with just one-to-one odds, he considered using his tranq-gun. Pocketing the phone a second time, he whipped out his weapon, unlatched the safety, rolled prone onto the counter, and fired off a dart at the shimmering outline of his opponent. He saw a vortex of hot wind deflect the dart as it passed harmlessly past the badger into the flames. In response another bullet rippled past his ear. With only three rounds total he realized the range and precision of his weapon was no match for his opponent’s gun.

He spotted a fire extinguisher sitting on the floor next to the bar counter. It was an exposed position, but no time to think. He darted off the bar onto another stool and landed next to the extinguisher, an imposing metal cylinder nearly twice his size. Putting his shoulder into the side, he rocked the container back and forth until it fell over, generating a large clang that echoed throughout the burning hall. He found a retaining pin as large as a cookie and with a great heave dislodged it, falling onto his back. The whole process had taken less than ten seconds, even though he felt like several minutes had passed. But ten seconds was still long enough for the badger to emerge from behind a bar stool, shake his head at Nick’s foolishness in trying to fight the fire, and raise the gun.

Holding the extinguisher like a fire hose, Nick blasted the badger with white foam, the reactive force slamming his back against the cylinder. The force of the blast launched several pounds of badger in an arc back over the mound of curtains, his revolver sailing away harmlessly away from him.

Chuckling, Nick waved the nozzle back and forth over the burning furniture in front of him. For all the panic and smoke involved, the scope of the detonation seemed pretty limited, and in a few seconds the burning wreckage in front of him was covered in a blanket of foam, lending the club a Christmastime air. Flames still burned on the opposite side of the curtain mound, where he didn’t have a direct line of fire, but for the first time he felt a faint hope that the bar could be saved. He had no idea where Wiley was now, but he could still do something about the phone. He pulled it out again, confirmed the photo was still front-and-center, and began forwarding it as a message once more. He sighed in relief as he finished entering his number--

Another bullet slammed into the wall behind him, and the horse reappeared, holding an impressively-sized hoofgun. Even as Nick swung the nozzle toward the horse, he realized (a) he was too late, and (b) the fire extinguisher could never knock a horse over at this distance. He scrambled behind the bar counter a few feet away as the bullet punctured the end of the tank and set it spinning. The resulting release of flame retardant deafened Nick as the tank, now a deadly missile, launched across the room and punctured a hole though the ceiling, coating the entire room and both adversaries in foam. Nick raised a trembling paw only to realize it was empty. In dawning horror he looked around at the foam-covered floor where Wiley’s phone must lie buried.

* * *

Something punched through the floor in front of Fennel and roared up past her through the ceiling, covering her and Judy with a light spray of white foam that made Fennel look like she was going rabid. As she reflexively wiped her muzzle, Judy rushed to the railing and peered down at the club floor. The fires seemed mostly out, the smoke was clearing. A large curtained circle dominated the floor, and the overturned furniture and bar were covered in a thick layer of foam. A particularly large foam mound with hooves was weakly moving by the curtain, and she saw the badger plastered against the far wall, slowly sliding toward the floor. She saw additional movement by the bar and saw Nick crawling around on his four paws, searching for something.

She felt Fennel arrive by her side and look at Nick as well. “I’ll help him,” the vixen growled curtly, heading to the interior staircase that led down to the bottom level.

Nick or Wiley? Judy struggled internally with the decision. She felt a strong need to help her partner, and not just leave him to Fennel. But a part of her coolly observed that Nick seemed to be O.K., and that she was the only one with a chance of recovering Wiley. She ran for the exit door that had just slammed shut and burst through, tranq-gun at the ready, hugging the wall in case of an ambush.

The stairs were clear, but she heard a distant clack of a closing door. Zooming down the stairs she kicked open the exterior doors and found herself in an alley. Looking left, she saw what looked like a coyote being shoved at gunpoint into a nondescript car by a taller figure. She couldn’t be sure as no lighting existed in the alley, and the car seemed to be designed for nocturnal mammals, with only faint headlights and no taillights to illuminate the license plate. The tall figure straightened up, and Judy recognized the mane of the jackal. “ZPD! Freeze!” she shouted, but wasn’t shocked when the jackal raised its arm. Ducking back behind the doorframe she heard bullets making gouges in the external brick façade of the club. Moments later wheels squealed, and she rolled back out into the alley, firing a couple of shots that she hoped would embed in the trunk or tire, leaving distinctive damage that could be ID’d later.

So the attempts to chain the doors—had they simply been a distraction to allow the group to bundle away Wiley? Did they somehow know she and Nick were coming? She shoved the uncomfortable thought to the back of her mind and refocused on the present, hurrying back inside. She hoped against hope Nick had saved Wiley’s phone.

* * *

The horse lost its footing on the slippery floor and crashed to the ground in a shudder. It was making slow but steady progress toward Nick, who was searching in widening circles from his initial hiding spot.

“Nick!”

“Fennel?”

The vixen emerged from a nearby fire door, then gingerly worked her way behind the bar. “Need help?”

“Yeah,” panted Nick, “I’m trying to find a phone…”

“Jeez,” muttered Fennel, looking over the white sticky plain of the club’s floor. “Just buy another one.”

“No, it’s evidence,” said the harried fox, franticly feeling the ground with his paws. He heard Fennel climb on top of the bar, but was too flustered to pay much attention, or even wonder why the vixen was there. A small part of him did wonder, though, where her orange sash had vanished to.

“Why don’t you just clean off the floor?” Fennel said, lifting up a large spritzer nearly as large as she was.

“No, we can’t get the phone wet-“ cried Nick, before an icy blast of soda water hit him in the face. Several more gallons of water spread over the floor before Fennel managed to release the button.

“Sorry,” she said, muffling a smile at the sight of the frowning drenched fox. His frown vanished, though, when he spotted a familiar rectangular shape in a puddle several feet away, outside the bar counter, between himself and the horse. Hurtling himself toward it, he lifted it out of the water and desperately tried to shake it dry. He saw the screen was on, and hastily wiped his paw on his shirt. That, however, made it only wetter. Fennel splashed down next to him, and he absently wiped his paw dry on her tail and pressed the home button on the phone.

“Yes! It’s still working,” the fox cried in relief, and finished typing his number, just as the marten tackled him from behind, sending him sliding snout-first into the foam/water mixture. Instinctively Nick held the phone up in the air, away from the ground, as he rolled over onto his back. He saw a flash of teeth and an instant later he threw his other arm up, just in time to grab the throat of the marten as it snapped at his face.

Nick flipped over again, pinning the small snarling mammal to the floor, still holding the phone at arms length, all the while trying to press the ‘send’ button with his thumb. The marten scrambled and squirmed, trying to find a purchase for his claws and paws on Nick’s face and chest. One paw caught on his shirt and he heard a rip. So much for his one nice shirt.

A low-pitched growl distracted his attention from the phone as the badger, now unarmed, charged him on all fours, splashing and splattering foam everywhere. Instinctively Nick rolled yet again, this time toward the lumbering badger, using the marten as a shield against the charge. The marten gasped at the impact, which sent both marten and fox sliding across the floor and slamming into the bar counter. Miraculously, Nick still had Wiley’s phone at arm’s length, pointing up toward the ceiling. He glanced up at the screen, catching a glimpse of Fennel peering down at him from her refuge on the countertop, and triumphantly pressed ‘send’, in order to transmit the photo.

SELECT PICTURE SIZE: SMALL (400K), MEDIUM (800K), LARGE (1 MB), ORIGINAL (4 MB).

“You’re kidding me!” he cried, just as the badger grabbed the marten and bodily hurled it out of the way. Nick raised his legs and kicked the badger in the throat, trying to shove its weight away so he could sit up. Desperately Nick hit ‘Original’ on the phone display.

SENDING…

Nick threw his legs to one side, throwing the badger off balance and forcing it down on the floor. Nick scrambled up on two legs just as the badger charged again, and the fox threw up his forearm in an attempt to block the larger predator’s windpipe. Both mammals spun around and around in front of the counter, each banging the other’s head against the counter.

SENDING….

Nick suddenly saw stars as pain seared through his head. A swirl stick the length of his arm clattered to the floor.

“So sorry!” Fennel cried, paws clasped to her mouth. “I was trying to hit him!”

“Please….stop….helping….” grunted Nick as the badger’s teeth inched closer to his eyes. The larger animal threw him down on the floor, adding its weight to the force that was gradually forcing Nick’s arm down. His other arm still held the phone at arm’s length.

SENDING…

A napkin holder clocked the badger right between the eyes, and they flickered upward and defocused as the stocky mammal slowly slid down against Nick, who gave it a weary shove onto the floor. A movement caught his eyes, and he raised his arms in a protective gesture before he spotted two familiar ears standing at rigid attention twenty feet away, with one arm extended toward him in a throwing position.

“Nice throw, Carrots,” coughed the fox, just as a shadow blocked his view. An angry horse, nostrils steaming, raised a hoof slammed it down toward Nick. Using his last reserve of strength the fox threw himself sideways, then realized he’d dropped the phone. He had one glimpse of the screen---

MESSAGE SENT

\--before the phone shattered into a thousand pieces of plastic and glass, the horse giving a satisfied snort.

“Everyone freeze!” hollered his partner. “I’ll shoot the next thing that moves!”

The deserted club became eerily quiet. Nick could hear the faint sound of sirens gradually getting louder, and the plop, plop, of water draining off the fur on his face. Only a few flames backlit the scene now, but thick smoke permeated everywhere. The horse and marten stood, hooves and paws up, both glaring at Judy, who was approaching Nick’s side cautiously, tranq-gun raised, warily keeping one eye on the badger, who was stirring fitfully nearby on the floor. The fox caught a glimpse of a small red light shining on the bar counter and gave a frightened start before he realized it was the recording indicator on Fennel’s phone. Judy also snapped her gun toward the light briefly before snapping back toward their assailants. “Camera off, Fennel!” she snapped. “Please evacuate the premises!” Nick raised himself to his knees shakily, and then noticed one of Judy’s ears cocked curiously toward the ceiling.

He heard a small splash as a small package, wrapped in butcher paper, hit the floor, and bounced toward the horse, marten, badger, and two ZPD officers. Nick dumbly stared at a small blinking red LED on the package just as Judy grabbed his shirt and tried to pull him away. Unfortunately, all that happened was that she ripped off his sleeve. Without missing a beat she grabbed his tie and yanked him, choking, behind an overturned table. Before Judy even had a moment to feel guilty about not warning Fennel, the firebomb detonated less than ten feet away. The force of the explosion drove the table toward the wall, the heat blackening and blistering the underside of the tabletop. The table crashed into the wall next to the bar counter, but fortunately three of the four wooden legs held, preventing the table from flattening the two officers.

Judy moaned in pain, clutching her ears as they rang from the sound of the explosion for the second time that evening.

“Carrots?” Nick leaned over his partner, nuzzling her shoulder. “Judy? You OK?” She couldn’t hear his voice, but saw his expression, so she smiled weakly back. He then straightened up. “Fennel?” he shouted, peeking out behind the table. The foam over the floor and furniture had dampened the incendiary effects of this second blast, but the walls had reignited on fire. A moment later, the vixen peeked about from behind the smoldering bar counter and gave a shaky thumbs-up.

Hearing a door slam open, both Nick and Judy turned and saw the horse cradling the badger as both he and the marten limped out the door. Wearily, he unclipped his radio from his fanny pack and called in a description of the three suspects, in the hope that some backup would arrive along with the firemen.

“Someone’s still up there.”

Nick turned to see Judy peering into the smoky gloom above. Her watering eyes turned toward Nick. “I need to get my purse,” she shouted, still partially deafened by the detonation.

“Carrots, I think we should just get out of here and try to round up these guys-“

“They’re long gone. But someone’s still left. I heard them. Stand up, please.”

Nick staggered up and held out his paw for his partner. She grabbed it, and with a sharp pull launched herself on his head, and then with a powerful leg thrust easily reached the railing of the second level above. “Get Fennel to safety!” she yelled down to him, and then disappeared into the gloom.

Now it was Nick’s turn to be torn over what to do. After a moment he turned, unconsciously tucked in the remains of his shirt, and carefully approached Fennel, who has huddling in semi-shock behind the bar as protection from the heat in the room. Nick noticed how his soaked clothes and fur were starting to steam from the heat as well. The sirens were very loud now, and he heard shouting just beyond the nearby fire doors. Lifting her jaw to meet his eyes, he smiled.

“Tell you what. Why don’t you just Zoogle a bunch of websites next time when writing your next blog post?”

“You know, maybe I should.” Her shuddering stopped and her eyes glittered with a hint of playfulness as she lifted up a now sleeveless arm to grab Nick’s paw. “Are your date nights always this eventful?”

“Ask me when I have an actual date night.”

“That can be arranged,” she grinned. Nick cleared his throat.

“Are you O.K? Think you can make it out of here to the fire fighters? Normally, I’d stay with you, but I’m a bit worried about what my partner’s getting herself into.”

“And a ZPD officer’s work is never done,” she smiled fondly. “Go on, first fox. I’ll be fine. But please be careful. For both you and Judy.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I always try to run away from trouble.”

"Yeah, but your partner seems to be always trying to run toward it.” She squinted up into the gloom, coughing. “I like her, but isn’t she’s being kinda reckless? She doesn’t even have a breathing mask.” She looked at him with concern. “And you don’t either, do you?”

“I’ll hold my breath, promise.”

“So will I.” She quickly leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, and then vanished into the haze toward the bright outline of the now-opened fire door.


	16. Flying Foxes

**Author’s note: Hello again, and here is the final update of this batch. Not to make this fiction seem like work, but some of the equipment used in this chapter, such as the grappler and zip line, was described in detail in Chapter 11, published a few months ago. Might be worth a quick review before proceeding. After all, there will be a quiz at the end of this chapter…**

* * *

To her mild surprise and relief, Judy’s purse still sat on top of Wiley’s table. Unzipping it, she extracted her grappler unit. She then checked her radio. “Nick?” She heard two bursts in reply. “Cover the exit stairways. I’m heading up the middle.” With no hesitation she launched herself from the railing and landed on the dancing platform that matched her level, the same one Nick had landed on just a few minutes earlier. She then rushed up the spiral connecting staircases onto two additional platforms until she reached the chandelier at the top. She saw a ramp extend from the top platform back to the top level, which appeared to house a set of dressing rooms and offstage props. Cautiously, tranq gun in paw, she edged slowly down the ramp, trying not to look down through the metal mesh at the ground nearly four stories below, peering through the thick pall of smoke that hung throughout this level, ears twitching this way and that. Ropes and counterweight sand bags hung everywhere; in the dim smoky haze they appeared as an eerie jungle of vines.

Way up on the upper end of her hearing range she thought she detected some faint clicks. She snapped around, aiming her pistol back toward the way she had come, listening intently, trying to filter out the sound of sirens. She heard fire mammals shouting down below on the ground floor, and the noise volume started rising rapidly, to her frustration.

There. There it was again. Eyes narrowing, she backtracked on the ramp, minutely inspecting each individual rope, pulley, and sandbag. A slight motion drew her eye to one swinging pulley, and as she watched the slight oscillation stopped. Tracing the rope by eye, she focused on a sandbag sitting in a cluster of ten or so just off to the side of the railing. Something wasn’t quite right, and as she stared further she realized the bag was somewhat angular and lumpy-

The sandbag burst forward, slamming her into the fragile railing along the ramp. The collision knocked the “sandbag” to the floor, and she only had a moment to glimpse some leathery wings before it was scrambling back toward the central platform. A bat. A bat twice as big as her. With a large backpack on its shoulders. With a smile that would not have been out of place on a predator, Judy sprinted after the creature. A bat. She had wondered how multiple firebombs could have been detonated on multiple levels of an apartment building, and now it retrospect, it was obvious.

Orienting itself on the platform, the bat now had room to extend its wings to a nearly eight foot wingspan, and it leaned forward to jump. Without a moment’s hesitation Judy tackled it from behind, knocking them both off the ramp.

* * *

Clambering up the circling emergency exit stairway that spiraled just outside the club walls (the same one Judy, Rachel, and Fennel had surfed down just a few minutes earlier) Nick paused, pricking his ears to detect up a new sound coming through the wall:

“NiiiiIIIIiiiiIIIIiiiiIIIIck….”

The sound began above him but quickly seemed to descend to his level. He rushed through the nearest fire door, nearly choking on the thicker smoke here, and rushed to the railing. Something like a real ugly butterfly fluttered past his face; looking down, he saw Judy riding something in an erratic spiral down towards the bottom floor.

“NiiiIIIiiiIIIiiiIIIck…” Judy hollered, as she and her mount spun dizzyingly around the perimeter of the club.

Back down the fire stairs, back into the foam on the bottom floor. A chattering furious furry mass was bouncing and crashing all over the place, flicking foam everywhere, creating shouts of consternation from the few firephants and other firefighters that had just burst onto the bottom floor from the doors opposite Nick.

Hesitating for only a moment, Nick ran to the nearest bar counter, clambered up a stool, and hopped next to the oversized sink. Hoisting a spritzer into both arms, he took careful aim and blasted the bat and rabbit out of the air and smacked them against an old black and white photo of some formal-looking javelinas.

“Sorry, Carrots,” he chuckled, slip-slidding up to her, “but that trick worked on me-“

“GET IT!” shouted a soggy Judy, scrambling and sliding on the floor after the bat, who was also half-hopping, half floating toward the exit door, angrily trying to shake off heavy water droplets, attracting confused looks from the entering firephants, who stepped to the side to allow the panicked animal to pass.

“STOP HIM!” she repeated, finally staggering to the door a few moments behind the bat, as Nick unsteadily followed behind her. All three burst out of the building into an alleyway crowded with milling patrons, flashing lights, and fire trucks. As soon as it was clear of the door the bat shoved some pigs aside, spread its wings, and started shaking off water in earnest.

Not again, thought Judy, whipping out her grappler. She wasn’t going to watch another criminal escape under her nose tonight. Planting her feet in the proper stance, she took careful aim and triggered the CO2 cartridge, launching the small pointed grappling hook right at the bat. Sgt. Lahini, the quartermaster of Precinct 4, had instructed them to use the hook as a last resort for anchoring a rope into a cave roof or wall, but she figured that it might lodge into the animal’s thick rucksack without injuring the suspect.

She felt a small glow of victory as the grappling hook punched a small hole right in the center of the backpack, and firmly caught on something inside. The glow quickly faded, however, as she triggered a brake on the line, like an angler trying to control a hooked fish, but found herself lurching forward, feet scrambling to get a purchase on the ground. The bat was easily several times her mass, and each stroke of its powerful wings drove him a few feet forward, even though his feet hadn’t yet left the ground.

“Nick!”, she shouted, releasing the brake and rolling in the line, trying to close in on the struggling mammal.

The exhausted red fox tried to pounce on her legs, but his shirt and arms were still wet and slimy from foam, so he slipped off and faceplanted into the ground. Judy leaned back in an attempt to increase the drag on the flying bat. She bumped into a few animals, but the crowd somehow quickly sensed the situation and cleared a path out of her way.

The bat, wings no longer soaked and path now clear, flapped them forcefully and launched into the air. Judy could no longer lean back like a water skier, tripped forward, and felt herself being dragged along the ground. She only had time to glimpse Rachel and Laughin’s astonished faces in the flashing lights of the firetrucks before she felt her chest, and then her feet leave the ground.

“Call backup, Nick!” she cried again, looking down just in time to see the fox try to jump and catch her ankle. She saw Rachel try to fight through the onlookers, but then she had to pay attention to a rapidly looming alley wall, positioning her feet to push away from it, and suddenly--she was clear of the alley. Ten feet of cable still separated her from the bat, so she flicked a switch to try to reel some more line in, but the first sudden jolt of the grappler’s motor caused the hole in the backpack to tear open farther, and from the rapidly fading street lighting she could see how the hook was only secured by a single prong through fabric next to the hole. She didn’t dare try to add any extra force to the line, and for a moment she hung helpless, paralyzed by the realization that she was in danger of falling to her death twice in less than a week. Willing herself into action, she rummaged with her free paw inside her fanny pack and found a flare.

Nick, standing in the middle of the crowd, saw a flare light up in the darkness above. OK, at least they could track her. He rapidly keyed in on his radio to Precinct 4 dispatch, using the mobile ID number.

“Unit 451, come again?” said the incredulous voice over the speaker.

“I repeat, we have an officer in the air over the Nocturnal District, pursuing a bat.” He wasn’t sure whether to say ‘pursued’ or ‘dangling, but chose the words that would salvage Judy’s pride. Part of him wondered if Judy was technically in the air or under the ground, but his rising panic washed away any whimsy.

“Ooooh-kay—we’ll see what we can do.”

Nick turned and saw Rachel, Laughin, Sheila, and Zilda standing behind him, faces in various degrees of astonishment and shock. He smelled Fennel push through the group next to him, and she looked open-jawed at the faint red flare wavering in the sky above.

“Did she mean to do that?”

Nick scratched his jaw, preoccupied. “Honestly? Hard to tell.”

“Does this sort of thing happen often?”

“Let’s just say I’m not surprised.” His gaze hardened. Clearly, Judy couldn’t afford to wait for Precinct 4 backup. At any moment that grappling hook could fail, plummeting his partner to her death. His own grappler was in his hand as he finished the thought, and he turned his gaze to a bright white cable crossing 100 feet above the alley. It was a zip line, and he needed to reach it quickly, but he had no idea how to access it.

He looked around. No longer segregated by the separately scaled levels, a few rhinos and larger mammals mixed with patrons of much smaller sizes, and a nearby tuxedoed hippo attracted his attention. Seconds later he was by his side.

“Excuse me, sir.”

The hippo turned away from a female hippo that Nick presumed was his date. She was dressed in a gauzy and obviously very expensive white dress whose ethereal quality contrasted sharply with the hefty flesh teasingly obscured underneath it. Looking down, the tuxedoed hippo frowned at the sight of the fox and tried to focus his eyes, gripping the female’s forearm as he swayed slightly. Intoxicated. This might be harder than he hoped.

“No, I have nothing to give you,” grunted the huge mammal, flickering a contemptuous glance in the fox’s direction.

Nick glanced down and realized that he looked hardly better than a beggar at this point. His trousers were now more like torn shorts, and between the bad guys and Judy his shirt was little more than a rag. Oddly enough, though, his tie was still in perfect shape. He whipped out his ZPD badge. “Sir, I’m with the ZPD and need to ask you a favor”.

“Listen, _fox_ , I’m not in the mood for any of your scams right now. Go away.”

“Listen! I really am an officer with the ZPD, and I just need you to give me a toss up into the air, as high as you can. I think I only need to reach 50 feet or so—“

“Can’t you listen, fox? Go. Away! Or you’ll regret it!”

Nick looked around for any other large animals nearby, and only saw an elephant half a block away. No time. Turning back around, he spotted and quickly appraised a large diamond bracelet on the female hippo’s forefoot. He observed the familiar way the male held the female’s arm. Husband and wife; not a date. A glimmer of an idea emerged, and before his better judgment could veto it he took a desperate stab in the dark.

“That’s an impressive bracelet you have, ma’am. Can’t even tell it’s not real diamond.”

The female took a moment before the double negative in his statement registered. She instinctively recoiled from him. “What?”

Her partner took a moment longer to realize Nick’s insinuation. “What did you say?” he grumbled, reddening in the face.

“I mean, they can do wonders with zirconium these days,” Nick grinned, “but really buddy, did you think you could get away with giving your special female something that obviously artificial? Trying to hid a little trouble with the finances, maybe?”

The female’s snout wrinkled in disgust, as if Nick were releasing a particularly foul stench, but she couldn’t resist turning to her companion and asking, “Of course that’s not true, right dear?”

“Of course not!” fumed the hippo, although his unwillingness to meet Nick’s eye suggested that the fox’s educated guess hit a little too close to home. “It’s an authentic twenty-carrot diamond! I even had the setting mud-proofed for an extra $1500!”

“Of course you’d say that,” smiled Nick sympathetically. “It’s embarrassing to admit something like this in public. I understand.”

The discussion had become sufficiently diverting that several nearby animals turned away from the smoking building and flying rabbit to stare questioningly at the bracelet. Unconsciously responding, the female covered the bracelet with her other forelimb, a small gesture that aggravated the male further.

“Hone, you don’t actually believe this lyin’, shifty…. FOX, do you?”

Yep, Nick figured this guy had a short fuse. Hoped he survived the next step, studiously ignoring the small panicking voice that he assumed was his survival instinct.

“You know, there’s an easy way to prove that it’s fake.”

The hippo lowered his head toward the fox and opened his jaws so wide Nick could see the foot-long teeth.

“GO AWAY!”

“You want to get rid of me? Fine. Throw me high in the air, and I’m out of your life. Look,” he motioned toward several animals, “we’re being recorded, so I’m on the record asking you to throw me. Won’t that feel gooooood…?” he smirked at the fuming mammal. “Seeing me disappear over the horizon?”

The hippo hesitated; even in his tipsy state he sensed that something odd was going on here. But self-control finally surrendered to self-indulgence. “Fine,” he growled, grasping Nick’s shirt collar and hoisting him bodily into the air. However, the shirt, finally exhausted from so much abuse, disintegrated, and the fox fell to the ground, wearing only trousers and a pretty classy necktie.

“Sorry,” mumbled Nick, and helpfully offered up his tie, bracing for whatever happened next. The hippo, apparently believing that the shirt had personally insulted him, firmly grasped the tie between two massive toes and whipped the fox around like a bolo. Nick grasped the tie to protect his neck and avoid choking to death, and just as his arms were about to give out he felt the ground fall away. He sailed feet-first nearly vertically out of the alley. It was a bit disorienting; looking “up,” he saw the ground, with numerous faces staring up at him. Frantically looking “below” he caught sight of the white cable, thought for a moment which side was up, took careful aim, and fired his grappling hook.

He gave silent thanks for their afternoon training session as the hook arced over the cable and wrapped itself around it. His descent down toward the ground was arrested, but an alley wall rushed in front of him. He only partially succeeded in shielding himself from the impact of hitting the wall, and then he was swinging, suspended, underneath the cable. A press of the appropriate trigger on the grappler, and he was reeling up his grappling cable, just as Judy had attempted to do earlier with the bat. Grasping the main zip line with his free hand, he flipped the grappler over and found the smaller motorized rollers Sgt. Lahini had indicated earlier. Having fully retracted his grappling line and hook, he snapped the rollers onto the zip line, judged in which direction the cable was heading upward, and flicked on the motor. Immediately the grappler jerked into motion.

He felt a stirring, then a breeze, in his ears, as both the landscape and nightscape shifted around him, and the alley dropped rapidly away, the flashing lights of the fire trucks fading into just another group of background lights. As he ascended past the pinpoint lights on numerous stalagmites surrounding him, he felt like he was swimming through stars. To his pleasant surprise his arm didn’t feel tired hanging from the grappler- a side benefit of the adrenaline rushing though his limbs. The roller was now moving so fast that the artificial wind was pushing his lean body level, giving him an illusion of flying.

At any other time he would have been either thrilled or terrified, but now his anxious thoughts only focused on locating Judy’s flare. Twisting around, he spotted the steady red light slightly ahead and off to the side. The bat did not seem to be flying in a straight trajectory, but was dashing back and forth, tracing a crude unwinding spiral around the Last Dance nightclub. A large shape blotting out the lights ahead diverted his attention, and he pulled back on the motor to slow down. His light-sensitive eyes managed to trace out the outline of a zip line junction platform. Numerous cables from various points on the cave floor terminated on the simple wire mesh platform, and a single cable rose at a steeper angle from the platform into the inky blackness above. He was starting to get a sense of how it all worked; dense networks of cables close to the ground for local movement; fewer nodes at higher altitudes (or closer to the earth’s surface) for longer distance travel. He detached from the local cable, reattached to the steep cable, and re-launched.

He was gaining altitude much faster now, and saw he was converging on one particularly thick stalagmite dominating in the center of the cavern. Pinprick stars ahead resolved themselves into isolated apartments looking into kitchens or bedrooms bathed in low-intensity reds and oranges. He saw that the stalactite was covered with tapestries of regular patterns and structures, presumably apartments and other windowless domiciles. Windows, after all, were probably not particularly useful to most denizens of the Nocturnal District.

Another platform loomed. Hopping off, he saw several cables stretching up from below at similar angles from the cardinal directions, but yet again, only one cable continued upwards, this time nearly vertically. Looking back over his shoulder, Nick re-sighted a steady red light bouncing around like a firefly against the artificial night sky, gradually moving towards his position. He briefly debated trying to select a different downward zip line, with a strategy of trying to intercept the bat’s path. Now that his eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness, he could make out the web of faint lines that spiderwebbed down to the ground below. Belatedly, he realized why the lines were white—it helped flying mammals from crashing into them.

But if he went down, what were the odds that he’d find a line that got within a few feet of the bat? He decided to obey his original instinct and continue heading up. Clipping his grappler to the nearly-vertical line, he launched himself upward toward the cavern roof, now faintly visible through the gloom above. His arms were getting tired now.

The final platform sat on the peak of the stalagmite, only about fifty feet below the cavern roof. The cable he arrived on was one of four, each zip line heading off in one of the four cardinal directions. He jumped off onto the platform and switched off the grappler, its faint whine dying away in the darkness. He knew he was nearly a kilometer above the cavern floor, but was unnerved by how still the air was. Unlike the earth’s surface, no wind existed here, except for a faint breeze arising from the artificial circulation of air through surface vents. No wind was probably going to be a good thing for what he was contemplating next. He shuffled to the edge of the platform and looked down. The faint roar emerging from the darkness below was also unnerving. Was he actually going to do this?

“Go for it, dude! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!”

He flicked an ear to locate the multiple voices, and glanced up toward the roof. Several teenage possums and another bat stared back at him, hanging upside down from what looked like an inverted jungle gym. Looking more closely, Nick realized that the roof also seemed to be covered by homes, streets suspended from rope bridges, and parks. A fully upside-down neighborhood, it seemed. No open space was wasted in the Nocturnal district. The young mammals began chanting again. “Jump! Jump! Jump! And get a shirt while you’re at it, dude!” One possum, a small wine cooler perched upside down (right side up?) in his hand, turned to his neighbor, a bat dressed up in a hoodie. “Why does he need a shirt, dude? It’d only get ruined when he goes splat on the ground.”

“Yeah, you’re right, bro,” said his companion thoughtfully. “Shame about the nice tie, though.”

“Isn’t this a school night?” asked Nick.

“Actually, school just let out for the night.” came the reply. “You’re not from ‘round here, are ya, mister?”

He noticed the blinking red light of a cellphone, prepared to record his stunt for all posterity, and heard Fennel’s voice run through his mind: “ _Please be careful_.” Well, so much for that.

Two years ago, when he had been selling Pawpsicles with Finnick, would he have ever imagined that one evening he would be standing on top of a stalagmite in the Nocturnal District, thinking of doing what he was thinking of doing now? Actually, could he have ever imagined anything that had happened over the past two years? And there, far below, was the flare, a few hundred yards laterally away from the stalagmite, marking the location of the one mammal that was responsible for it all.

He inhaled deeply and unzipped his fanny pack. He tried to memorize the positions of all the white zip lines he could see. Fortunately, there were only a few during the first few hundred feet down, and they were mostly vertical.

The flare was still jerking around. She might still be on the bat, but she must be getting tired by now, even though it had been—only five minutes at most? He thumbed the radio. “District 4 dispatch, this is Officer Wilde.” He took less than a minute to describe what he was going to do, and then switched off the radio before anyone could respond.

As he peeped over the ledge, a familiar voice ran through his head:

“ _The past is never just in the past. The past makes the present, and could very well be the future. You’ve got too much past, Wilde; it’s going to surface one way or the other and bite you.”_

Finnick’s voice faded, and a memory of a wounded, searching expression flickered to life:

_“I thought I knew who you were. Now I’m wondering if I know who you are. If I’ve ever known. It’s completely thrown me.”_

“Join the club, Carrots,” he announced out loud, and hesitated for a final moment, his pulse screaming.

“Come on man, you going to do it or aren’t ya?” yawned a possum.

He leapt forward as far as he could, and spread-eagled his arms.

* * *

Judy couldn’t believe how fast the bat was flying; its speed was such that the resulting wind had blown her back at nearly a 45 degree angle behind the mammal, which was fortunate given how her opponent kept trying to snag her on a zip line cable, sign, or building corner, skimming close to each obstacle and causing her to momentarily panic before successfully dodging or spinning at the last moment. But with every evasive maneuver her sensitive ears could pick out a tiny ripping sound, and she knew that her assembly wouldn’t hold for much longer.

_At first nothing seemed to move, and during the first few moments he could even hear the cheering from above and the faint roar from the streets below. Then the breeze became a roar, and the kaleidoscope of lights spread in front of him began shifting._

Afraid to activate the reeling-in motor on her grappler, she had been carefully hauling herself along the line, arm length by arm length, clutching the grappler between her thighs, terrified that each pull forward on the line would pull the hook free from the rucksack. It was exhausting work, and her biceps were burning with the effort. But her precarious attachment had held, and how she was only dangling only 5 feet from the backpack. But the distance might as well have been five hundred feet.

_He forced himself to remember Lt. Lahini’s advice. Was it three or five seconds before he was supposed to deploy. He panicked as he realized he’d forgotten to count. He willed himself to wait a few more seconds, but the sight of a zipline platform whipping past him unnerved him, and he deployed the partial parachute._

Another sudden swerve and something fell through the hole in the backpack. She caught a glimpse of a blinking light before a bright flash appeared on the street below, followed shortly by a sharp report that reverberated around the massive cavern. This bat had spare firebombs, apparently. She hoped a few would remain if—she meant, _when_ , she caught him.

_The sudden jerk of the small chute destabilized him and he nearly collided into the building thundering past him. Like a kit trying ice skating for the first time, he wobbled frantically to keep himself in place, consuming precious seconds. A new bright star blossomed near the flare. It was way off to the side—too far._

She was completely disoriented, half blinded by the flare she held in her teeth. The only landmark she recognized was the tall neon sign from the Vision casino, which seemed to spin around her. She closed her eyes and willed her exhausted arms to pull her another foot forward.

_He cautiously leaned sideways, and to his relief the building fell away. He leaned hard, trying to fall sideways as fast as possible. A white zip line appeared below, but before he had a chance to respond it flashed by him, only fifty feet away, sheer luck. Dumb, dumb, fox…._

With one paw taking the tension, she wrapped the slack cable around another paw, and felt that she couldn’t contain the panic much longer. She desperately hugged the cable, keeping her eyes shut and forcing herself to think. Maybe, if she timed it right, she could cut the line and jump if the bat skimmed next to another building—

_The red light was approaching fast, too fast, was going to have to let more chute out, was going to have to aim a little ahead of the light to compensate for slowing down, he now saw a faint outline-_

Her ears registered the sound before her mind could catch up. A faint whistling of something moving rapidly through the air, and then something smashing into the bat from above, hitting with enough force that the bat was knocked down nearly 20 feet before he stabilized. She caught a glimpse of a small parachute rushing toward her face before it collided with her, wrapping her completely in its billowing fabric. She heard a sharp tearing and felt the cable give away, but before she could react someone grabbed the line, and she heard an excited bark: “Carrots! Climb up! Hurry!”

A final burst of adrenaline flooded her arms, and she dropped the grappler and rapidly hauled herself the final few feet forward. The parachute’s fabric slid away from her face, and she caught a glimpse of something long and furry and grabbed it. The yelp of pain jolted her into the realization that she had just grabbed Nick’s tail. Wincing a silent apology to her partner, she hauled herself up the tail, realizing that again, for the second time this week, that this tail had become a lifeline. She reached up to grab his shirt and came up with a pawful of orange fur instead. No time to think—she grabbed the fur and gave herself one final haul forward and found herself ridding piggyback on her partner.

Panting, she glanced around and saw Nick frantically clutching the back of the backpack, tongue lolling. Part of her wondered why Nick was only wearing trousers and a tie…

“Can’t hold on! Cut the chute!” Nick was getting dragged off the bat by the parachute billowing behind them.

Paws flickering into the fanny pack, Judy pulled out a pocketknife and moments later the bright orange chute drifted back into the darkness. The bat surged forward and Nick groaned in relief…but her body was already moving again, climbing over the top of Nick, handing the flare to him, and pouncing on the bat’s neck. She was firmly attached to her suspect now, but even with the extra weight of Nick, the bat seemed to have enough lift to move forward. She rocked her weight back and forth, trying to control the bat like a horse. No luck there. Freed from the parachute, the bat had steadied its flight, but seemed to be gradually losing altitude under the combined weight of the two partners. The giant neon sign of the casino was much closer now. She wrapped her paws in front of the bat’s eyes, trying to force him under her control, but the bat still swirled and dodged a bridge, completely unperturbed by flying blind.

“Ears!” squawked Nick from somewhere behind.

Oh yeah. Bats used sonar, didn’t they? She plunged each paw into one of the enormous pointy ears in front of her, ignoring the icky, slimy feeling of her claws squishing through ear wax as she shoved them in as far as she could.

Immediately she felt their course start to wobble and her ride began squealing in panic, rearing backwards in an attempt to slow down. Judy tried again to shift her weight to the left and this time was rewarded with a sharp bank in that direction. They were heading toward the ground as the panicking bat decelerated. She spotted faint outlines of streets, but the lighting was not nearly strong enough to make out anything—

A white cable appeared up ahead and she instinctively leaned sharply to the right, and the bat responded, making a sharp right and causing Nick behind her to yelp in surprise. At a loss at what to do, she kept turning the bat in a tight circle as she tried to figure out the next step…

There. A black rectangle up ahead, a couple blocks away from the casino. Seemed like flat ground. Shifting her eight right and forward, the rectangle grew larger. They were coming in fast. A large sign emerged from the gloom, and she caught the word “Guano-“, whatever that meant. The area below had no buildings, but was relatively flat and seemed to be covered by mounds of dirt. Instantly her confidence returned and he broke a smile. Dirt. Rabbits knew dirt, and exactly how hard you could run into it.

“No,” cried Nick, but they were committed, although at the last moment her ride tried to swerve and seemed to struggle. But the correction was too little, too late. As they leveled out just before impact she caught a glimpse of red flashing lights headed in their direction.

She only caught the smell a second before impact.

* * *

**You thought I was kidding about the quiz, didn’t you?**

**Question 1:**

**A grappler is a device that can:**

**(a) shoot a grappling hook.**

**(b) Attach to a zip line and transport someone along it.**

**(c) All of the above.**

**Question 2:**

**Who is Peter Hodges?**

**(a) A character who last appeared in Chapter 6, and I really should give him another appearance soon.**

**(b) A rabbit who dresses like Nick, in an attempt to generate cheap melodrama.**

**(c) Dude, seriously? You expect me to remember Chapter 6?**

**Question 3: What minor character from the movie makes a guest appearance in Chapter 18?**

**(a) Yax**

**(b) Weaselton**

**(c) Um, Chapter 18 hasn’t been posted yet?**

**Question 4: Fennel is an original character in this story who**

**(a) is clearly a Mary Sue figure acting out the author’s crush on Nick;**

**(b) is a fascinating and mysterious character who is worthy of Nick’s affection;**

**(c) is best enjoyed as part of a meat and potatoes stew.**

**Question 5: Laughin or Laffin?**

**(a) Laughin**

**(b) Laffin**

**(c) You really need to make up your mind and settle on one.**

**(d) Sorry, I just skim these updates for WildeHopps action, so I have no idea who this is.**

**Question 6: Bats have appeared in the following works about Zootopia:**

**(a) The Art of Zootopia;**

**(b) As a creepy information broker in Ars Moriendi, by twocentnuisence, who wrote one of the best versions of the Nocturnal District I’ve read.**

**(c) There is actually another fanfic where Judy rides a bat in Outback Island, and I can’t remember the title, but when I read it over a year ago I thought, “Darn, it’s hard to write anything original in this fandom…”.**

**Question 7: How close is this story to finishing?**

**(a) Actually, when is it going to start?**

**(b) About eight more chapters.**

**(c) Wait, there’s actually going to be an ending?**

**Question 8: Is this story a WildeHopps fic?**

**(a) Man, It’d better be, I’ve wasted so much time reading this far.**

**(b) Nah, it’s been overdone, Nick should end up with a nice vixen and Judy with a nice rabbit.**

**(c) Does the world need another story with relationship angst? Why can’t we have a story where they’re best friends and soulmates, but no awkward cross-species attraction?**

**Question 9: Should this story be rated a ‘T’ or a ‘M’?**

**(a) ‘M’, due to the explicit porn scene coming up. Because all overlong Zootopia fics eventually slide into pornography.**

**(b) ‘M’, due to all the references to drug (excuse me, mushroom), use.**

**(c) ‘M’, because Nick is a bigamist! Or this that a polygamist? (I actually got a PM angry with me about this! I mean, it was only a paper scam, not an attack on a sacred institution. Promise.)**

**(d) ‘T’, because in order to earn a ‘M’ rating, something actually needs to happen.**

**On a more serious note, I think the path to the ending is visible up ahead, but I’ll need to find another block of time to complete it, and so I can’t promise weekly updates. As of May 3, 170 people are following the story on fanfiction.net and seem to at least click on the link for every update. I’ve never had so many people read a story of mine before, and it’s nice to see that no one is dropping out. I guess if you’ve been willing to tolerate the idea of a formerly-married Nick, you’re in for the rest of it.**

**For those of you that have commented, thank you so much! I treasure every drop of praise for this story, and promise that there is a complete plot and resolution eventually emerging that I hope is worthy of your patience. I need to finish before the Zootopia fandom goes into complete hibernation.**

**To those silent browsers, thank you for following, and if you’ve enjoyed the story thus far, would you mind dropping a review or comment to give me some encouragement to finish? Otherwise it may be a while.**


	17. Vixen Hunts Rabbit

**Hello again! And quietly doth begin our third and final act:**

* * *

“They had to suction my nose out. With a straw.”

Nick Wilde pouted from the comfort of his hospital bed, arms crossed peevishly. Judy bit her knuckle to suppress the giggle that threatened to burst from her chest. After all, her partner did seem pitiable. One of his eyes was blackened, he had bandages around his ribs, and she noted how he winced every time he shifted his weight. His poor tail had been used as a lifeline several times over the past week.

“Not funny, celery muncher.”

“Not trying to laugh, I promise. I’m actually really sorry, Nick. I had no idea what ‘guano’ meant, and I didn’t smell it until the last-.”

“You lived your whole life on a farm and had no idea what manure was?”

“Well, that’s because we called it ‘manure’, not ‘guano’. Why don’t they just call it ‘bat manure’ anyway?”

Nick shrugged, then winced again. Apparently his shoulder was a bit sore too.

Judy, by contrast, seemed little the worse for wear. When she, her partner, and their suspect had crashed into the guano pile, she had managed to keep a good grip on the bat’s head and avoided the worst of it. Poor Nick, however, only had a grip on the backpack, and both it and he had been flung a good twenty feet head first into a very fresh pile.

Strangely enough, she had been assigned the same raccoon physician who had looked her over two days earlier. Not so strange maybe—in the aftermath of the Last Dance firebombing so many animals had needed some form of medical attention that animals non-local to the Nocturnal District had been directed to surface hospitals. Both Nick and Judy had thus found themselves gently shepherded into the same ZPD-approved medical facility as before, along with a batch of other club patrons that had given them and their guano-contaminated outfits a wide berth. “Good to see you again,” the racoon had said, taking an experimental sniff, “or maybe not. I’m gonna guess you haven’t been following my recommendation to rest and keep your heart calm?”

“I had good intentions,” she had responded, smiling awkwardly.

“Just remember, if I’m going to get a paper out of this I need statistically significant sample sizes for the longitudinal fixed effects modeling. So please stay alive a little bit longer,” he grinned, and just like that she had been cleared out of urgent care, with nothing more than some additional sarcastic yet severe warnings about watching her health, and a slightly guilty conscience. That had been three hours ago. She had then found Nick’s attending physician, and he had assured her that despite numerous bruises, cuts, small bites, and mild amounts of smoke and guano inhalation, the fox would probably be fine, but they were advising him to wait a couple more hours to check that he had no respiratory infection.

“By the way, did someone try to strangle him?” the attending antelope had asked her. “He had some odd ligature marks around his neck.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone had tried to,” Judy had replied.

Since Nick had been sleeping at the time, she had decided to swing by her apartment via Zuber, shower, and dress in her official ZPD neoprene outfit before checking via phone with Clawhauser, who had let her know that Bogo was _definitely_ interested in talking to them when he had a spare moment, and yes, her squad car was available. And thus here she was back at the hospital thirty minutes before visiting hours began, car parked below and ready to get Nick out of here in case she could persuade him to check out early.

She now sat in a chair next to Nick’s bed in the outpatient recovery room outside the ER. A drawn shade diffused soft light over the white floor, sheets, and privacy curtain, and Judy wondered if her partner would still like some sunglasses.

“Why was there an open field of, um, guano in the middle of the Nocturnal District anyway?” she asked, sensing that this was going to be another ‘naive country bunny’ moment.

But Nick, for once, let the obvious tease pass. “Bats do their business when flying,” he sighed, “which makes public restrooms a difficult thing for them. So the Nocturnal district designates certain cavern ceiling locations as restrooms, and the ground beneath there becomes, shall we say, a target range.” He coughed lightly, and returned to his current favorite topic: his suffering. “I went in so deep, Carrots, that I’ll smell the stench until my dying day. They had to throw away every scrap of clothing I had on me. Even my underwear. I’m gonna have to walk outta here in a hospital gown.”

“Well, at least your tie survived,” she replied, eyeing it draped over the metal arms of the bed. “In fact, looks almost new. Did they wash it?” Nick shook his head, then pointed to the small nightstand next to the bed. “Thank goodness my phone is waterproof, though I got no idea how I’m going to deodorize it. The badge too.” And indeed, Judy could pick up the faint aroma of their landing site wafting from the smartphone.

“Did you manage—“

“Yep,” Nick said, anticipating her question. “Managed to text one photo from Wiley’s camera before it got crushed. Haven’t been able to check my phone though—my battery’s dead, and my charger is back at my apartment.”

“I’ll swing by your place, if you want, and pick up some clothes and the charger,” Judy volunteered. “We really need to get that pic-“

Her own phone vibrated, and flicking it out she recognized the number, raised a claw in a just-a-minute gesture to Nick, and answered. “Hello, Clawhauser.” She paused. Yeah, “Nick’s here. Yeah, we can talk to the chief. Hang on, putting on speaker.” She activated the speakerphone and propped her carrotphone on the nightstand.

“Hopps. Wilde,” grumbled a familiar voice. Even when broadcast through a tiny speaker, Bogo’s voice seemed to reverberate across the room. Judy unconsciously stiffened to attention. “I’ve been informed that both of you avoided permanent injury during your down time.”

“Yes sir,” she chirped. “And we’re ready to be assigned back to active duty.”

“Yes, about that,” Bogo said dryly. “I’m not sure you ever went off-duty. I thought I had made my wishes clear that you two were going to keep a low profile for a few days, and unofficially check into a long-shot lead.”

“I did my best,” groaned Wilde.

“The long-shot lead turned out to be not so long-shot after all, sir,” smiled Judy. “Have you interviewed the suspect?”

“As a matter of fact, we’ve had a couple of very detailed one interviews. The bat’s confessed.”

“What?” Judy said, mistrusting her ears. “Confessed to what?”

“He’s been identified as Garces Ilgonno, resident of the Nocturnal District. He barely sat down in the interview room before he confessed to the Last Dance firebombing, as well as a firebombing at the Dromedary Dr. apartments earlier this week. Signed and witnessed.”

“What about the other suspects who shot up the club?”

“He says that they were local hired muscle to help him get the coyote—this ‘Wiley’, back.”

“Why all the trouble over Wiley?”

“He said that the coyote had accidently photographed him in the act of arson, probably while checking out one of his many mushroom stashes.”

“And what’s his motivation for the bombings, sir? Did he say?”

“Claims he’s a loan shark. Says several animals in the apartment building owed him money.”

“He burned down a building just for that?”

“Said the apartments must have had illegally flammable materials stored. Said his devices weren’t designed for such destruction. Forensics quickly looked over a few devices found in his backpack, and agrees. They’re a clever design—mostly made out of paper and other materials that wouldn’t leave a trace. But according to them they seemed designed more for noise and smoke than deliberate arson.”

“So,” said Judy, thinking out loud, “did the Waters family owe him money?”

“The coyote family you were so keen on finding? Mr. Ilgonno claims he has no idea who they are. Says that the fact that they and Wiley are related was a coincidence.”

“Smells like guano to me,” muttered her partner. “The confession, I mean.”

“Sir, this all seems a little suspect to us. Is he going to help find Wiley?”

“Maybe so, Hopps, and maybe his confession is a little too convenient, but this case may be out of your paws soon. Is there any evidence you’re going to check in for this case?”

“Maybe, sir.” Judy hadn’t had a chance to file an official report. “Wiley’s phone was destroyed by one of the assailants, but we might have managed to get one photo off and sent to Nick. But we won’t know for a bit.”

“If you do find it, be sure to enter it into evidence,” Bogo rumbled. “And I’ll need your case report filed when you report back in.” He paused, as if weighing his next words. Judy felt her pulse increase as the uncharacteristically thoughtful silence from her boss stretched out nearly five seconds. Her raccoon physician would not be pleased. “We need to wrap up our ends on the evidence trail and tidy this case up for a clean handoff. I’ve received a request this morning to transfer this investigation to District 4 from their Chief, Astares. Given how the focus of the investigation has shifted into the Nocturnal District, how the latest arson and assault charges also took place there, and how the remaining suspects and your coyote are likely still in there, we both agreed that it was appropriate to transfer the investigation to them.”

_I know what you’re going to say to that,_ Nick’s eyes squinted suspiciously to Judy. Cue eye roll.

“With all due respect, sir,” Judy said, “We’d like to continue-“

“I’m not surprised, Hopps,” the voice interrupted, dryly, “but I don’t care. Procedures exist for a reason, and your intruding to the Nocturnal District in such a spectacular fashion has already pushed the boundaries of our legal jurisdiction. The fact that you were off-duty at the time has only complicated things.”

“At least let us check out the photograph, if there’s anything there.”

“I’m expecting a final report in two days, and all evidence cataloged by then as well,” came the firm voice. “Wrap up everything by then. Downtown has enough cases and assignments to deal with without cleaning up other precinct’s messes. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir,” Judy said, trying to keep a professional cool in her voice but failing. She ended the call and chuffed in frustration.

“Hey, look at it this way,” Nick said, leaning back into the slightly-elevated bed. “You’ve just managed to stretch this investigation out past a week. Not bad for what started as a 24-hour investigation.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she relented. “I know you’re not feeling well, but are you up for reviewing what happened last night? Or is it day? The Nocturnal District knocked all sense of time out of me…”

Nick straightened up gingerly and cocked a strained version of his confident smile at Judy. “Sure thing, pard. I’m not gonna pass up a chance to describe my heroic—and successful—efforts to save your fuzzy hindquarters-“

They had worked their way through events at the nightclub up through what both had decided to call “the landing incident”, with Judy filling 20 pages of notes in her cramped pawriting, when her ears swiveled towards the doorway, and a knock followed a few seconds later.

Somehow Judy knew it was Fennel even before she turned around. Maybe it was the way the paws had clicked on the corridor tile; more likely it was the way that Nick’s ears sprang to attention and his nonchalant mask had snapped back into place. Or maybe it was the way the fur raised on the scruff of her neck. Before turning to the door she stared at Nick, realizing that she hadn’t asked him what he had meant by his cryptic text message –WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HER—during their review of last night. They had been so busy getting their basic facts straight.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” the slim vixen chirped, as she stood framed in the doorway, a greasy paper bag in hand. “But the receptionist told me that visitors were finally allowed in here.” She glanced over at Judy, who had now turned to meet her eyes, and her ears lowered in uncertainty. “But if now’s not a good time—“

Judy looked askew at Nick for advice, raising one eyebrow so that Fennel couldn’t see. Nick gave a quick nod towards Fennel. “Of course. If what’s in the bag is what I smell it is, you’re definitely welcome!” As Fennel strode in Judy stood up to give her access to her chair.

“Oh, please, don’t bother yourself on my account,” the vixen smiled cheerfully as she approached the opposite side of the bed and seated herself in a spare chair.

Judy smiled back cautiously. “Given what you went through last night,” the rabbit said, “I was a little surprised you didn’t end up here too.” She glanced over at Nick, wishing that she could pick up some clear body language or signal from him on how to treat the situation, but all she could pick up was polite interest. And hunger.

“Those fried crickets?” he asked.

Fennel looked down at her package and laughed. “I’m guessing that you haven’t been able to eat since last night, and I figured if I were in your place I’d be starving for some unhealthy fast food right now.” She passed the package over to Nick, who greedily nosed his muzzle into the package, obscuring his eyes. “But no,” she said, turning to face Judy across the bed, “I’m actually fine. I was checked out for smoke inhalation by the EMTs at the club, and nothing serious.” She paused. “Laughin Water and his girlfriend wanted to say hello, and that they’re safe as well. And I followed up with Shirley and Zilda—they’re doing well and say thanks for everything.”

Laughin had actually sent a text to Judy earlier, but Judy hadn’t heard from the two endangered mammals. She nodded a pleasant acknowledgement.

“They were in a pretty decent mood when I talked to them, actually,” Fennel continued. “Looks like the Last Dance survived the attack in pretty good shape. No one was seriously injured, and even most of the décor survived outright destruction, thanks to two quick thinking foxes--” she smiled fondly toward Nick, who was contentedly browsing the bag’s contents, eyes and muzzle still hidden, “-and a rabbit, apparently,” she finished, turning toward Judy.

Judy recalled how some of the objects on display at the club were virtually museum pieces. “That _is_ good news,” she said sincerely. “Whatever happened to that ax?”

“Rachel still has it apparently,” Fennel said, “but I told her to return it to the club so they wouldn’t think it’d been stolen. Although honestly? I thought it looked pretty good on her,” she grinned.

Judy smiled back. She felt a certain grudging camaraderie with the vixen after last night’s adventures, but still couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward about this situation. She looked at Nick again. Did he want her around, or did he want her to leave? All the usual body language signals were gone, literally—the fox had nearly shoved his head into the bag, maybe deliberately.

“Oh, thought you’d like to see some of the photos I managed to snag last night,” Fennel jerked up to attention, and brought out a large smartphone from her purse. “I put up another blog post this morning, and its already approaching the number of hits from your daredevil acts a few days ago.”

Judy thumbed through the blog post on the small web browser. The text was heavily punctuated with pictures. There was Nick wrestling a badger in the midst of a foam-covered floor. And a hippo lifting Nick off the ground using his tie. “Wait, Nick, what’s the story behind this?” Judy asked, turning the phone so he could see it.

Nick pulled his face out of the bag, greasy bits of crickets hanging off his whiskers. “Oh, yeah, forgot to mention that little detail,” he muttered, self-consciously brushing his face.

“Officer Wilde was so worried that you’d fall to your death that he did a really crazy thing,” Fennel said, and Judy detected, for the first time, a bit of coolness in the voice. “He provoked a hippo into throwing him up into the sky. The poor guy was whipped around like a slingshot. I was terrified he was going to break his neck.” The female fox narrowed her eyes towards Nick. “And shouldn’t you be wearing a neck brace?”

So Nick _had_ been nearly strangled. “Really?” Judy admonished her partner, chuckling. “You really pulled that stupid stunt?”

Nick flicked his eyes back and forth between the two females, faintly puzzled at how quickly the two had ganged up on him. “Um. You’re welcome? To the cop that decided to harpoon a bat four times her weight?” He decided the safest place to be was back in the bag, and plunged his head back in again.

“Yeah, well-“ Judy returned her attention to Fennel’s phone, conveniently forgetting Nick’s question. She scrolled down a bit further, then paused. “How’d you get this shot?”

The photo showed Nick and Judy desperately clinging on to the bat. Nick was almost falling backward, with only a single paw clutching a torn flap of the suspect’s backpack, looking like he was trying to ride a bucking bronco, his tie trailing backwards behind his head. By contrast, Judy had her legs wrapped around the bat’s throat, her arms up its ears, and her head thrust forward, sitting just above the bat’s head, both her and the bat staring straight ahead in intense concentration.

“The bat kept circling around the club—you actually ended up crashing only about three blocks away. So I managed to snap a shot when you passed through a searchlight. Pretty good for a smartphone, huh?”

She half suspected that it wasn’t a coincidence that Fennel had published a photo that displayed Nick’s shirtless chest prominently. Sanctimoniously ignoring the half-naked fox torso, she focused instead on his face, smiling affectionately as she caught a familiar expression of his: the wide-eyed near-panic look of someone who’s realizing they’re out of their depth, like a novice skier who’s just accidentally jumped off a cliff. Actually, come to think of it, he literally _had_ just jumped off a cliff…

She looked back up to Fennel to hand back the phone and was startled to catch the vixen glaring--well maybe that was too strong a word--staring intently at her. Perhaps she was signaling the need for some privacy?

“I’m going to go get a coffee,” Judy said. “Looks like it may be a long day. And no, I don’t think you’re allowed any,” she added hurriedly, noting the hopeful look emerging on her partner’s face. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Fennel rose up too. “Actually, Judy—it’s still OK if I call you that, right?”—Judy nodded –“ if you don’t mind I wouldn’t mind getting a little something myself.” She placed her phone back into her handbag, snapping it shut.

Judy glanced over her shoulder as she and Fennel exited, and caught Nick looking quizzically at the departing females, ear cocked to the side.

They found a vending machine down the hall, with a simple white backlit sign that said “COFFEE”. Bland and unadorned, just like the rest of the hospital décor, and Judy suspected that the coffee would taste the same way. The generic Styrofoam cup that dropped down the chute wasn’t an encouraging sign.

Fennel hovered next to her, ostensibly waiting her turn, but Judy felt the fur on her back continue to rise. There was anxiousness, a nervousness around the vixen, that made her reluctant to turn her back to her companion. So she stirred her coffee with the cheap wooden stirrer and waited.

“You probably guessed I wanted to talk to you in private,” Fennel finally spoke. “I’m not sure how to ask this,” she fidgeted, “since generally when it comes to these matters foxes like to play it subtle and indirect, but I believe that bunnies are relatively straightforward on these matters. So I’ll just be blunt.”

“What matters?” Judy said, keeping her attention focused on the coffee. She had an idea about what was coming, and was in no hurry for it to arrive.

“What is the nature of your relationship with Officer Wilde?” the reporter blurted, eyes cast down toward the floor. “I’m sorry—I know it’s a personal question, but I’m sure you must have noticed that I’ve taken a certain—interest—in your partner. But I don’t want to move any further until I’m sure that the den is not already occupied. So to speak.” She resolutely shifted her eyes beyond Judy’s shoulder, and Judy herself found that she had difficulty raising her eyes from her coffee. Cheese and crackers, this was awkward.

“The nature of our relationship.” Judy deadpanned. “We’re partners. We’re good friends.”

“So much for bunnies being straightforward.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was trying to be subtle and indirect to help you out. Nick’s sense of humor must be rubbing off on me.” Catching Fennel’s bemused expression, she sighed. “You mean are we in a _romantic_ kind of relationship?”

“Yes.” And then after the silence stretched thin-- “So are you in a romantic relationship? With him?”

“I’m a rabbit,” she replied dumbly.

“That’s not a no.”

Judy studied the surface of the coffee and noticed it was vibrating. Glancing up, she saw Fennel staring at her coffee cup too, and so determinedly focused on settling her trembling paws. There was no reason to be nervous.

“We’re not in a romantic relationship,” she said steadily, locking her eyes with the vixen’s. “We’re best friends. He’s actually the best friend I’ve ever had. He’s saved both my career and my life, and I’ve saved his, and we’re extremely close. And I wish more than anything else for him to be happy.” She paused, planning her words carefully. “Buuuuut, to be honest, I’m wondering why you’re talking about this with me, and not with Nick.”

“Yes, yes, you’re right, from a bunny point of view it’d make more sense to be blunt with him. But we foxes? Sly and subtle, right? Anyway, thank you for being honest with me. It’s just—“ Fennel searched for words “-the danger he puts himself in for you, the huge risks he takes to pull you out of trouble—it’s just made me wonder.”

Judy raised an eyebrow. “Wonder what?”

“And that scene between you two last night, when you threw the drink in his face-“

“-which you yourself pointed out was staged,” interrupted Judy, “in fact, I remember very clearly that you criticized my acting skills at the bar last night.”

“Well, yeah, but I confess that I was watching you two before that little incident, and I guess it just seemed a bit…shall we say, intimate.” She raised her paws, “I’m not trying to force you to admit anything, but I just wanted to be sure I understood the situation before I risk embarrassing myself over this. He intimidates me so much, and I also didn’t want to blunder--”

Judy cracked a small smile, prompting Fennel to stop and raise an eyebrow. “Sorry, but I have a hard time thinking of Nick as being intimidating.”

“It’s the smell that’s wrecked my confidence,” Fennel continued, almost to herself. “We foxes are very good at smelling moods, and several times I’ve smelled, let’s say, a certain _interest_ coming off him. Watch your cup there,” she added, and Judy noticed she was crushing her drink.

“What do you mean by smelling moods?”

“Officer Wilde—Nick-- never told you?” she said with surprise, but Judy’s instincts suspected she was anything but surprised. “We foxes have some of the best noses around. Not as good as a wolf, mind you. But when we are one on one with another mammal, we can often sense fear, joy, sadness, anger, and-“ she smiled mildly at Judy –“lying.”

Judy forced a broad smile back. Was she bluffing? Was this the reason Nick always seemed able to read her mind so well? Not because they were kindred spirits, but because he, like Watercress the coyote, could smell her stench? How could she have reached her age and not known something like this? (Well, it wasn’t like she was bosom buddies with predators growing up …). She couldn’t consciously remember any past situation with Nick where her scent should have mattered, but—

_She fought her neoprene suit off, ready to lie down and slumber in the fields, covering herself only in sunlight, falling asleep among the grass, showing the sun the joy she felt in its presence, preparing to join it up in the sky-_

-nevertheless she felt a heat emerge underneath her fur and creep its way up her ears. She consciously relaxed them down back behind her shoulders and spotted Fennel intently watching them as well. Was this vixen trying to provoke her and observe her reaction? Was this some sort of elaborate verbal trap to test her? She tapped her foot in annoyance. Why all this, this, _slyness?_ Wasn’t her straightforward word good enough for this mammal? Well, trust, or lack of it, went both ways, and Nick couldn’t afford any more ethical landmines in this case, so maybe she should just come right out and tell Fennel the problem.

“Well, be that as it may, I’m afraid there’s another factor complicating this situation,” Judy said apologetically. “The arson case is still open.”

“It is?” Fennel snapped her attention back from Judy's ears, eyes widening in surprise, her tail flagging up in sudden attention. “You mean after arresting that bat and everything else that happened last night? Isn’t it just a mop-up operation now?”

“I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation. You know that. I’m just trying to suggest that in terms of timing you should probably wait a while longer before attempting…you know…”

Fennel frowned, suddenly suspicious. “Wait, you can’t possibly think I’m still a suspect…”

“You’re still technically a person of interest, while this case remains open.”

“Hey, I’ve been nothing but cooperative.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”

But Fennel was already rummaging through her bulky shoulder purse. “Here, I’ve even managed to get some info on those thugs beating up on Wiley last night”. She pulled out her phone again and shoved it in Judy’s face. The rabbit could see a mug shot of a horse. “They’re just local bruisers. Hired muscle. The bat was the mastermind, and you’ve got him.” Fennel seemed genuinely offended that she was still a ‘person of interest’. “And I’m even the one that told Nick that I smelled fear on the coyote family, when we first met at Snarlbucks. Oh, he didn’t tell you?” she growled lightly, catching Judy’s expression, “Guess maybe your partner doesn’t tell you everything after all. Probably lots of things he hasn’t told you”. Judy felt the blood draining from her face, as shock replaced embarrassment, and felt Fennel’s clinical gaze dwelling on her. “This hitting a little close to home, maybe?”

“It’s not a matter of trust,” Judy patiently lectured, recovering her bearings. “Just facts. You’ve now been sighted at both crime scenes, with only your word as an alibi. It’s just standard procedure on our part to keep any persons involved in a case at a professional distance. Nothing personal”.

“’Our part’? Does Nick think this as well?”

“Feel free to ask him. You’re gonna get the same answer.”

Gone was the demure posture. Judy was now feeling hostility radiate off her companion.

“Maybe I will. I’ve been nothing but open and straightforward with you,” snapped the reporter. “And if you still can’t accept that, and hide behind so-called procedure as an excuse to, well… maybe mistrust of foxes is in _your_ biology.”

Judy felt her own professional composure slip. Despite Nick’s joke about her endless energy, she was still tired. “You know, I’m getting just a _little_ tired of getting that thrown back into my face by random mammals. Nick forgave me for that comment years ago”.

“Has he? Well, I’m not surprised. Nick is a remarkable mammal.”

“Yes, I agree. And besides being his friend, I’m also technically his superior officer. And while what he decides about this … situation …. is ultimately his own business, I won’t hesitate to remind him that he can’t afford any more conflicts of interest in this case.”

“Any _more?_ ”

Whoops. “I meant to say _a_ conflict of interest. It would be bad for his career right now for him to get caught in a conflict of interest, or even an appearance of a conflict of interest.”

“So I’m bad for his career? Can’t have him hanging around too many foxes, the stench might cling to him come promotion time?”

“I didn’t mean that at all, and you know it.” Judy’s voice remained steely calm, but the surface of her coffee was rippling continuously now.

“Yeah?” Fennel said grimly. “Well, know what else would be bad for his career? Dying. And twice now I’ve watched him nearly kill himself trying to clean up your messes. He nearly died jumping off that gantry at the apartment fire—“

“I didn’t push him--”

“--Not literally. But you did steal and smash that crane into the building, making a hole that the little coyote fell out of. A little reckless, don’t you think?”

“Reckless vs. what? Standing around and letting dozens of mammals burn to death?”

“Go ahead and tell yourself that. And then look at last night. I saw you run back into the Last Dance without smoke or fire protection, and then I saw Nick reluctantly follow you, even though he knew better. And now he may have lung damage.”

As if on cue, a faint hacking cough drifted down the hall from behind the closed door in Nick’s ward. Fennel plunged onward.

“I saw you harpoon a suspect without even considering that it might get out of your control. I saw Nick literally risk breaking his neck with an angry hippo, just to gain a tiny chance of helping you. And you even laughed at him about that just now, back there by his hospital bed!”

“Well, he told it like it was a joke!”

“Of course he would! Why worry you? And then there was that little matter of him skydiving nearly two thousand feet to grab that bat. And then literally getting shit shoved up his nose and lungs. Yeah, I’m angry. Angry to see you unhurt after how careless and cavalier you’ve been with yourself and your partner, while he’s sitting back there injured, with who knows what permanent damage, and you’re the one saying _I_ might be bad for his career?” Her tone was getting sharp enough that Judy could see an aardvark orderly down the hall glancing in their direction.

“Nick’s never complained to me, and that’s his call, O.K?” Judy replied woodenly. “Being a police officer involves risks. He knew that before joining the ZPD, and he still chose to join anyway. I respect that decision, and so should you.” She started walking back toward Nick’s room, signaling the end of the conversation. It was remarkable how just five minutes ago, in the distant past, they had been—if not exactly buddies—then comrades bonding over a shared experience.

But Fennel wasn’t done, and strode alongside Judy, yipping intently and angrily. “Believe me, I respect and admire Officer Wilde on many, _many_ levels. And one of his admirable characteristics is loyalty. You earn the trust of us foxes, and we will stand by your side thick and thin, whatever else society might say about us.” Her teeth were fully exposed now. “And somehow, for reasons I don’t understand, he’s _very_ loyal to you, almost slavishly so. He follows your impulsive misadventures without question. That’s part of the reason I felt the need to ask about your relationship. I’m worried that if I don’t say _something_ , then one day your partner will be lying dead, and maybe then you’ll feel a little more regret about how you took your pet predator for granted.”

Judy bit her lip angrily, determined to keep the conversation from spiraling downhill further, fighting to suppress the memory of the fear and shock she felt seeing Nick jump off the ladder to catch little Singing Water. Yet she couldn’t help swiveling around to face her hostile visitor, just twenty feet from the door to Nick’s room. But before she could open her mouth, Fennel ostentatiously sniffed in long and deep, then scowled.

“Maybe some of my words did get through those ears of yours. You reek of guilt. You know deep down I’m right. Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to talk to a certain fox about their relationship.”

“Actually, we’ve talked plenty!” Judy snapped back. But then years of detective training managed to penetrate into the red haze of anger that had been gradually enveloping her thoughts. She stepped back, forcing a polite smile. “Interesting little performance. But answer me this. If foxes have this wondrous sense of smell, then why do you even need this pleasant little heart-to-heart talk now? Why not smell me to uncover our-“ she clasped her paws, and spoke in an exaggerated country drawl, “ _secret_ relationship? For that matter, why not just sniff Nick to confirm that he’s into you?”

Now it was Fennel’s turn to step back, defensively. “I actually have a hard time figuring out your scent,” she reluctantly admitted. “You’re always wearing that neoprene suit that covers most of your body, which masks most of your scent. The only time I’ve seen you without it, last night in the club, we were awash in the smells of that old place, surrounded by crowds of other animals rubbing elbows in cramped quarters. So with you I figured it was just politer and quicker to just ask.” She rubbed the side of her face with a paw. “Actually, now I don’t even need to ask or smell,” she muttered. “Your ears and stance tell me everything I need to know about your opinion of me.”

“So,” said Judy brightly, “it looks like you might have been exaggerating your smell-o-vision powers a teeny bit, Ms. Glendale.” She paused. “At least we’re both being open about our feelings. I prefer things to be out in the open, anyway, instead of all this subtle deception and dancing around.”

“Yeah, and look how well it’s turning out,” the vixen said sarcastically.

“Well, you insisted on dragging me into this drama. Actually, you haven’t answered my other question. Why not just smell if Nick is attracted to you? Then you wouldn’t even need to work up the courage to ask him outright, or cause a scene with me.”

“I’ve tried,” Fennel responded, now flustered and off balance. “When I first met him in the coffee shop I thought I smelled a hint of it, but ever since then whenever I come across him-- _you’re_ around. Even when I come by the hospital the moment visiting hours open I find you glued to his side, so even if I smell a certain—interest—from him, I can’t be sure it’s for me.”

“Fine, he’s alone in there now.” Judy said quickly, feeling the heat rise in her ears again. “Why don’t you go in there? To heck with procedure for a moment. Go ahead, I’ll give you two a moment alone. Sniff around to your heart’s content. If you find nothing there, then I guess we’ve had this little showdown for nothing. But-“ she held up a paw-“if there is _something_ , then while that’s technically his and your business, I’m still dead serious about the need for Nick to keep his personal and professional life separate, and as both his _friend,_ with his best interests at heart, and his _supervisor_ , with responsibility for his performance, I’m gonna make sure that he remembers that.”

Silence fell, and the gentle sounds of orderlies shuffling and instruments beeping settled back into the hallway. Fennel glared at her, and Judy allowed herself to glare back. That the reporter had basically admitted disliking Judy had finally liberated the rabbit from her efforts at being non-judgmental, and she now felt free to indulge her own instinctive dislike of the reporter, despite the slight rebuke from her conscience over losing her professional objectivity. This dislike had nothing to do with predator prejudice or with her partner, of course--she could almost _taste_ that this vixen was hiding something.

Fennel suddenly wrenched her gaze away and strode stiffly through the doors into Nick’s ward, giving Judy a chance to finally sip her coffee. Cold. Figured. She strained to keep herself from staring at the clock, and tried to think of next steps. It would take a bit of time to recover the photo. Maybe she should run to Nick’s place and get his charging cable for him, even though that would cost a precious hour. She caught a glimpse of her faint reflection in the frosted window into the ward and realized that her nose was twitching. She forced herself to take a deep breath and sipped some more coffee, feeling her heart beat faster than normal. So much for resting her heart. Looks like Dr. Raccoon might not get his paper published after all.

Some time later—she had no idea how much later--Fennel strode out. She didn’t break stride as she gave Judy a prim smile and walked purposely down the hall, bushy tail wagging slightly. Judy turned back toward the door, adjusted her neoprene suit firmly over her shoulder, and went in.

* * *

**A few things: I was originally going to post the entire hospital scene but thought this would be a nice place to put in a break. My July will be crazy busy so the next update may be a while, unless I'm really pressured to move along (I'm looking at you, Zack the awesome ).**

**Second, I may be interested in a beta reader to double check for plot holes and tone in upcoming chapters. Please contact me if interested.**

**Finally, apparently if I get 200 followers this story may qualify for the Reddit Hall of Fame(TM) collection of stories. There are 172 followers now, and I confess that “vaulting ambition” burns inside me ;-) If you like this story please kudo, follow, or recommend it to someone!**

**And as always, thanks for reading!**


	18. Crickets and Small Confessions

**Chapter Notes:**

**As Clawhauser would say, ‘OMG!” Has it really been six months since I last updated? Yes, yes it has! But a few things have happened over that time.**

**First, this story got featured on the ZootopiaNewsNetwork site at** [ **www.zootopianewsnetwork.com** ](http://www.zootopianewsnetwork.com/2017/10/story-dont-let-go.html) **! OK, fine, I submitted the story for consideration, but hey, they accepted it and featured it! It also gave me a chance to meet DrummerMax64, a ZNN editor with inspiring skill and dedication.**

**Next, I asked a couple of artists to illustrate some scenes from the story. Zootopia fandom stalwart and talented artist Red Velvet Panda illustrated Chapter 1 (kindly not charging me anything):**

 

(Image courtesy of RedVelvetPanda)

 

 

**while the highly talented Samur Umlal illustrated the Nocturnal District in Chapter 12:**

****

(Image courtesy of Samur Umlal)

Samur has written two excellent fics, “10-97” and “It’s Not Personal,” that are also self-illustrated. Both fics are well worth your time, but I suspect that most Zootopian fanfic readers still remaining have already come across these at this point.

**Three more chapters of this story are finished and (almost) ready to go. I really appreciate DrummerMax64 (of ZNN) and TinBuzzard for reviewing upcoming chapters. Drummer even voluntarily re-read the entire fic to refresh his memory, something I don’t necessarily recommend: apparently it takes two full evenings of effort! (99,600 words as of this chapter). However, if you can’t remember what in the world this story is about (not that I would blame you- six months - geez), you might want to scan Chapters 12-17 to catch up with the majority of the events referenced in this chapter.   I’ll be releasing the three chapters semi-regularly until Feb. 6. After which--it will definitely be less than six months to the next update. It’ll be pretty clear after these three chapters that the plot ball is rolling downhill, and fast.**

**Finally, thanks, Zack the Awesome for posting five reviews on this story over the past several months, faithfully asking me once a month whether the story is continuing. Yes, Zack, it is, and thanks for keeping on me. I only hope these upcoming chapters are worth the wait.**

**Regards,**

**JustNibblin**

* * *

 

**Chapter 18**

 

Judy rapped on the door and cautiously entered. Through a gap in the privacy curtain she saw a well-crumpled bag covering Nick’s face, but as the hinge creaked slightly his ears perked up, and the bag slid off his muzzle onto the floor as his eyes greedily gazed at her paws.

 

“’zat coffee?”

 

Judy glanced down at the generic Styrofoam coffee cup in her paws. She had forgotten about it during the last few minutes of her heated argument with Fennel.

 

“Already told you, no caffeine for the fox in hospital socks. Doctor’s orders, right?”

 

“And we both know how good you are at listening to doctors. Gimme, if you ever want me out of here sometime today. No coffee, no case for you.”

 

The rabbit reluctantly approached the bedside and lifted up the cup, a small strand of steam feebly curling over the lip. “About that- the case- I mean,” she began, but couldn’t help grimacing slightly as her partner’s long tongue sloppily and slurpily flecked specks of the muddy liquid onto the clean white sheets of his bed. After a few moments he shuddered and withdrew his muzzle from the cup, scowling.

 

“Ugh, it’s cold. Were you two really standing out there arguing about me that long? I mean, I know I’m interesting and all, but honestly-”

 

“Good to know that your ego survived further damage, I guess.”

 

“Am I wrong?”

 

Unconsciously rubbing her shoulder, his partner shrugged nonchalantly. “It was more that our intrepid reporter had a few things she wanted to say about me, and I responded with a few things I felt she needed to hear about her.”

 

A grin slowly inched its way along the fox’s jaw. “Wow, Judy, was that a half-truth I just heard emerging behind those buck teeth of yours?” He clutched his gown tenderly to his chest. “’Cause Carrots, I gotta say, I’m touched. Could it be that yours truly has finally managed to soften the edges of your blunt honesty?”

 

“No, I’m really telling the truth- or at least, the relevant parts, anyway.” She frowned. “Why’d you ask about Fennel, anyway? Did she say something just now?”

 

Was that a mask slipping back onto his face? Nick smiled mockingly.

 

“No, ma’am, simply employing my sophisticatory detective skilz. For example, when I see a female walking in with a tail that’s standing up straight like a bottlebrush, I cleverly deduce that now is not the time to crack a joke. Further example: when said female marches up to you, gruffly points out that you have a cricket on your snout, and then angrily licks off the cricket in question—well, these subtle clues start adding up. Toss in this earnest yet determined look on your face as you trooped in, and I’m pretty sure my name was being tossed around both fondly and reverently.”

 

“She licked your face?” Judy asked, her nose wrinkling. “Is that a canine thing?”

 

“Yeah. Kind of annoying, actually. I was planning to eat that cricket.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Licking’s not a bunny thing?”

 

“Um, yes, but usually it’s considered more of a—” -No blushing, Hopps- “— _intimate_ gesture.”

 

“Ah. Well as much as I’d love to continue this awkward conversation,” Nick gestured to Judy’s phone, still propped up on his bedside, “our beloved leader has a 48-hour clock ticking on the case, of which you’re gonna need at least four hours to write up the report-”

 

“ _I’m_ writing the report?”

 

His paw brushed away her interruption. “So what’s the next step here? Also, can I borrow your phone for a moment to send a text?”

 

Judy rolled her eyes. The fox could have easily reached her phone, but seemed to be enjoying playing the invalid. Instead of indulging him, she raised her paw in a halting gesture.

 

“Speaking of texting… hold on there a sec, partner. We’re not done with last night. What was up with that text you sent me about Fennel?”

 

“What text?”

 

_The bar, one of two on this level, was arranged as a half-ellipse, with the bartop consisting of huge sliced wooden logs, the bark still attached along the edging. Several single mammals were scattered along it, none meeting her eye as she swept her gaze across it. She self-consciously adjusted her dress and asked for a glass of water as the woodchuck barkeep approached. Her purse buzzed, and she fished out her phone and read Nick’s text._

_WHAT DO YOU THINK OF HER._

_Judy had barely finished reading when she sensed someone seating herself on the stool next to her._

_“Good evening, Officer Hopps,” a quiet, silky voice said._

“The one you sent me at the bar, just after you sent her down to me. Remember?”

 

“The ‘what do you think of her’ text?”

 

“Bingo. Given what just happened out in the corridor, I need to ask – why’d you send it?”

 

“Wasn’t it obvious?”

 

“No, Nick,” she said impatiently. “There are at least two possible meanings. For example, did you mean ‘Do you find her suspicious?’ If so, that would be a ‘Yes, yes I am’. On the other paw, if you meant ‘Think I should go out with her?’, then that _should_ be a ‘No, none of my business’—right?”

 

Nick tilted his head and widened his eyes innocently. “Oh! Oh yeah… sure, look Carrots, I’ll explain, but may I use your phone first?”

 

“Why?” she asked, eyes narrowing, suspecting another deflection.

 

“Well, I’m guessing Wiley’s photo, the one I texted myself, is our only lead, right? There’s no point going back to the Last Dance, ‘specially if Bogo wants us to be careful about District 4.”

 

Judy nodded. “I suppose I could go to ZPD headquarters and see if I can interview the suspect, this Garces Ilgonno, but my gut tells me that’s a dead end.”

 

“So my heroic texting of Wiley’s mushroom farm photo was not in vain, after all.”

 

“’Twas indeed noble, your actions were,” she muttered in mock Olde English. Nick had already gone into loving detail about his misadventures sending that photo, and she was not going to give him an opening to repeat the description. “Yes, I think there is a lead in that photo. I remember noticing a reflection in one of the puddles there, a neon reflection, like a sign-”

 

Nick nodded. “And there aren’t too many bright signs in the Nocturnal District, so there’s a chance-”

 

“-that we can locate where Wiley was when he took that photo. Was it one of the last photos on his phone?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So that might be the location where he saw something that got him in trouble. And if we can find it and look around-”

 

“-maybe you’ll get some ideas,” finished Nick. He tapped a claw absently to his cheek.

 

“It’s a long shot,” she said. “I do wish you could’ve managed to save the entire phone, but no sense crying over a moldy crop.”

 

“I had thought about just pocketing the thing and running for it,” Nick explained, “but you saw how Wiley tapped a code to unlock his phone-”

 

“-which means that if his phone was locked we’d recover nothing,” she acknowledged, recalling the extensive coverage mobile phones had received at the academy. “So, yes, at least we have the photo. But it’s on your phone, not mine, so why’re you asking for my phone?”

 

Nick pointed to his nightstand. “My phone’s dead and needs a charge. Aaaand… my charging cable is at my apartment. So in order to message the photo to your phone, I’m gonna need that cable. Not to mention my spare uniform as well, if I want to avoid walking out of here in a hospital gown.”

 

“So, I’ll just go get both from your place,” she said, leaping up. “We’re still gonna need to talk about Fennel ASAP, though.”

Was that a mischievous glint in her partner’s eye?

 

“Funny you should say that, ‘cause I just gave Fennel the key to my apartment, and asked her to fetch the charging cable and clothes for me.”

 

“You what?!” gasped Judy, before catching herself. “You’re trusting her with all that? A person of interest you barely know? What the heck were you thinking?” she almost growled. “Cause from here I don’t think your thinking with your head.”

 

“Wait, wait, it’s not what it seems,” he said, lifting his arms placatingly.

 

“Fine, stop sniffing around the bush. Out with it. What’s up between you and her? ‘Cause it may compromise this case.” She pointed a paw toward him. “As you should know all too well at this point! You’re already on thin ice with your past with Sage-”

 

“OK. Listen. I sent that text to you last night because this vixen keeps popping up at the wrong place at the right time, and I can’t decide whether I should be suspicious or impressed, paranoid or flattered. I mean,” he nervously rubbed the scruff on the back of his head, increasing his already unkempt appearance, “when a young female displays both an interest and such a lively and—um— _sly_ wit… I’m not made of stone, Carrots. I’ve got a pulse.”

 

Fascinated, Judy could only stare at her uncharacteristically flustered partner.

 

“Now, I admit, part of me has been tempted to, um, push the boundaries a bit further, shall we say, but the other part of me, the one that has kept me alive for over twenty years, the part I trust, keeps putting on the brakes.” He paused. “In case you were wondering, my judgment of character is usually excellent.”

 

“It sure was when it came to me…” she replied dryly, and he nodded, conceding the point.

 

“As I said, _usually_ excellent, but under the circumstances I thought I should get a second opinion about Fennel. So… I asked her to go sit with you to give you some ‘company’ at that bar, to lower the odds that you’d get hassled or hit on, and yeah, yeah, I know, I know – you can take care of yourself,” he hastily added, seeing Judy about to open her mouth defensively, “but I also thought it would give you a chance to try that honest-empathy superpower magic thing you always do on people… and see what you’d unearth.”

 

“Oh!” She hesitated. “Fine. I admit, having her next to me was useful in deflecting an old goat.”

 

“A goat, really?” Nick grinned wickedly. “The Nocturnal District has really broadened your horizons, hasn’t it?”

 

Feeling her ears warming, Judy chose to stare at a mote of dust on the otherwise antiseptically-cleaned tile floor. “Yeah, it did. And yeah, I did have a nice talk with her. She strikes me as an ambitious but decent mammal.”

 

“I may have met a similar personality once before,” Nick said, with only a small trace of sarcasm.

 

“But I’m still suspicious of your future girlfriend,” she fired back, raising her gaze from the floor to see how he reacted to her little poke. But he only arched an eyebrow, as if amused that she was trying to get a rise out of him.

 

“Now, normally I wouldn’t care if you and her start a… _thing_ , but she’s still – maybe not a suspect – but definitely involved in this case, and giving her the key to your apartment is a boneheaded move that jeopardizes your career, especially after your shenanigans with Sage.”

 

“So you’ve already said. Ah, but I forgot to mention a couple of little details,” Nick yawned. He leaned forward, mischief now definitely sparkling in his eye, but then he winced as his tweaked shoulder reminded him of his recent adventures.

 

“First, I never told Fennel _why_ I wanted to charge up my phone, so she doesn’t know the photo exists. Second,” he said, rubbing the shoulder, “I verified that she doesn’t have a car, so it’s going to take her around an hour to get to my place.” He raised a claw. “And what I didn’t mention to her, but which I now say to you, is that due to some past, um, let’s say _experiences_ , during my former existence, I have a security camera hidden in my place.”

 

Now it was Judy’s turn to cock an eyebrow.

 

“Interesting story, why I got one,” Nick said. “However, I haven’t felt the need to power it up for a while since I’ve, um, started my new career. But if you could just hand me your phone, there’s still time for Finnick-”

 

“-to turn on your system, so we can see what she actually does inside your apartment. Gotcha,” Judy grinned, leaping up again. “But why Finnick? Don’t you want me to do it? There’s not gonna be a lot of time before she...”

 

“Not sure you would get there in time,” Nick replied evenly, but Judy sensed something deeper behind his reluctance: she had never been by his apartment before, and he seemed in no hurry to give her a glimpse now. Before she had a chance to absorb this impression, he held out a paw for her phone.

 

“So please, let me text lil’ buddy. There’s still plenty of time, but...”

 

“How will he get in?” she asked, watching Nick tap on her phone. She knew that her partner and the small fennec fox were still on a decent footing: heck, this whole drama had begun on a tip from Nick’s former partner in crime (although Nick would emphasize that _technically_ it wasn’t a crime). Still, she was surprised that Nick would place so much trust in – well, why deny it? – an underworld type, and that the little fox would still drop everything to help out a cop.

 

“Hmm? Oh, I just reminded him where I have a spare key hidden,” he grunted, “though he probably remembers the location. He’s crashed at my place often enough.”

 

“And you’re sure he’ll do this for you?”

 

A small beep from her phone seemed to answer the question. Nick glanced down at her screen and nodded. “Yeah, the lil’ guy is glued to his phone, so I thought I’d hear back quickly.” Perhaps sensing his partner’s incredulity, he shifted his gaze back to her and smiled slightly. “Finnick and I have a relationship that goes back half my life. We’re almost family at this point. A dysfunctional family, mind you, but still family.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “When push comes to shove, he’s always been there for me.”

 

“Neat!” she said, quietly pleased. She had always liked Finnick, despite his shady background.

 

“Given that Fennel’s involved, I’m sure he leapt at the chance.” He grinned lopsidedly. “He’s never missed a chance to both advise and make fun of my love life, or lack thereof.” He ducked his head back to the phone. “And he’s certainly had a field day watching this vixen around me.”

 

“Well, I have to admit it’s been interesting to watch,” she said, straight-faced, as he finished tapping with a flourish. “All set?”

 

“Yep. I just told him you’d pay him.”

 

Her ears shot up. “What?”

 

Nick grinned devilishly. “Don’t worry, I don’t think it’s an unreasonable amount.” The subdued demeanor he had displayed throughout the morning had evaporated. He tossed back her phone. “Make sure you have this on you, pard, so I can text you as soon as I boot up mine.” He stretched painfully. “I’ll try to meet up with you once Fennel returns with my clothes and I have a moment to knit my bones back together.” He yawned, but hesitated when he noticed the expression on the rabbit’s face. “Uh oh, Carrots,” he said, flicking up a curious ear, “that sincere and earnest look is back, which is kinda scaring me.”

 

She hesitated, then shrugged. “Something Fennel said back in the corridor struck a nerve, that’s all. I should get going if I’m going to be in the Nocturnal District when you send the photo.” She hitched her gear belt, picked up a jacket, headed to the door, and hesitated on the threshold. She stared off into the distance, searching for the right words to say, as Nick looked on, faintly apprehensive.

 

“Am I too reckless, Nick?”

 

Nick stared at her dumbly.

 

“She tell you that?”

 

“Yeah. That my actions are going to get you or me killed someday. Although to be honest, I don’t think she was too worried about me,” she smiled, weakly. “But I see you sitting here in bed while I flutter off into the breach again, and I have to admit: I’m feeling guilty.” She tapped her foot against the door. “I just wanted to say, I mean, if you think that I’m getting too reckless, you’ll...”

 

“I’m not sure my health can withstand another in-depth heart-to-heart conversation right now,” Nick interrupted. “The one we had just last night at the club nearly ended up killing us both.” He paused, then grinned. “Actually, mostly me.”

 

“Jerk. Don’t make this harder on me than necessary. I’m serious.”

 

“You always are when you leap into these dramatic confessions, rabbit. Bunnies? Emotional? Yes, yes you are.”

 

“So, do you think I take you for granted? Because Fennel said-”

 

Nick raised a paw. “Hold it right there, Carrots, I’m going to cut this one off. I’m sure at some point we’ll talk about your supposed death wish, and whether Judy Hopps needs to be less Judy Hopps, um, -ish, but Bogo told us we’re on a tight schedule. So, the quick answer is yes, you’re a tiny bit impulsive, but I think I go the opposite way, and so we balance each other well. I’d rather spend time bragging about how I’m getting you back into the Nocturnal District in record time, but it won’t be record time unless…” He gestured toward the door, but still seeing the quiet anxiety in her violet eyes, added, “I can see it’s troubling you. We’ll talk later, promise? But maybe wait at least 24 hours before having another big character-building moment, just to give my body a chance to heal? Sound fair?”

 

“Very,” Judy smiled affectionately, buck teeth flashing, and then vanished, leaving only a gentle swirl of air circulating inside the room. Slowly and silently, Nick gingerly lowered himself back onto the pillow. Even with the room empty, his face remained a neutral mask, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling, taking a deep, careful breath through his nose. He then closed his eyes, held his breath for a long moment, and slowly released it.

 

* * *

 

13,751 hits: not bad for something that started as a whim...

 

 

 


	19. Hidden Visions

 Judy quickly learned that no unmodified surface vehicles, not even ZPD cars, were allowed in the Nocturnal District. Apparently, normal headlights were blinding to many of the light-sensitive residents, and so now she found herself walking into the Crystal Springs gondola entrance once again. This time around she boarded the gondola itself, a much less dramatic but much quicker route than last night’s walk down the stalactite. The view from the gondola remained stunning, although the sight of the enormous main cavern was still tinged with the turbulent emotions she had been feeling the first time she had seen it. Pushing reminiscences aside, she checked her phone for the tenth time. Yep, cell coverage was available. Nope, no picture texted from Nick yet. Just how long does it take for a nosy vixen to fetch a cable and ransack an apartment anyway? Couldn’t Fennel hurry it up a bit and return Nick’s phone, if she indeed was some sort of secret criminal mastermind?

The gondola docked alongside a pretty orange-hued stalagmite, and Judy walked the gently spiraling exit path down to the cavern floor, where she once again found herself on the main road toward the brightly-lit tourist district. Relatively fewer animals were up and about, probably because it was daylight up on the surface, and thus ‘nighttime’ here. Or maybe there were just fewer tourists right now? It was all very confusing.

Her memory of Wiley’s photo wasn’t perfect, and the sign had been partially blocked, but she did recall that the neon sign was pinkish and that it was reflected off a puddle. She frowned, trying to piece together more details from memory, but it was too hazy. No more garden gimlets for her. And _still_ no message from Nick. She held off the temptation to text him—he’d follow through when he could, whenever Fennel would leave him alone.

She let herself be drawn along by the sparse crowd gravitating toward the first brightly-lit structure. Starting from the cavern floor, a thin, narrow tower suddenly ballooned into something much wider, so that the red-tinted floodlights installed at the base of this expanded section could point straight down, bathing the floor around the base in a red curtain of light. The floodlight beams were so focused, however, that the light curtain sharply contrasted against the surrounding inky darkness.

She squinted, staring at the floodlights. Looked too red for what she remembered. The reflection had been pinkish. And the beams were so focused that she doubted they would reflect off any puddle to the side of the structure. This tourist district was also quite busy, and she couldn’t really see an illicit mushroom farmer tending an illegal crop in the middle of a crowded area. A ten-minute walk around the tourist perimeter confirmed her first impressions: none of these colors fit. They were too bright, too gaudy, and always too crowded. She clearly remembered seeing only a few isolated neon letters in the photo, suggesting that it was a single sign, with some blackness surrounding it. She couldn’t put a paw on it, but she had the distinct impression that she’d seen that combination of colors somewhere recently.

The officer turned her back to the tourist district, letting her eyes adjust to the engulfing blackness beyond. There were some other relatively bright structures, but they were few and far between. Her eyes lingered on the Vision Casino a mile away, whose huge neon sign sat mounted on a stalactite near the cavern wall. She stared at the bright letters in the distance and scratched her ear absently. The previous night (day?), when she had been gripping onto a desperate bat for dear life, she had registered the sign, but only as a distant reference beacon. But as one of the few colored signs visible in the District, she now gave it, and the casino underneath, her undivided attention. She set off on a brisk trot toward the casino.

“ _Take in the whole scene first_.”

The words whispered across her memory, echoes from an academy lecture by an ancient ocelot.

“ _First impressions matter. Young rookies like yourselves are always too eager to delve into the microscopic details of a scene: looking for the pawprint in the dust, the strand of fur sticking on the edge of a packing crate._ ”

She could still picture the eerie, misted blue eyes of retired Captain Vines as he paced back and forth across the utilitarian classroom, sweeping an unseeing gaze across the nervous cadets seated in front of him. Although the venerable instructor was legally blind, there was nothing wrong with his nose or ears, and they all knew of his past reputation as a detective, so they matched his silence with their own, paying him rapt attention.

“ _There’s a time and a place for details, but when you first arrive at a scene, always remember: you can observe a lot by just looking”._

So Judy just looked at the casino as she wended her way along increasingly smaller roads toward it.

The Vision Casino, owned by Dancing Shadow, the well-dressed coyote she had only met a little over a week ago, showed little evidence of the distinctive culture of his species. It seemed to be built into the side of the enormous cavern wall of the Nocturnal District, tucked away in an alcove that was still large enough to hold ten Carrot Day festivals. She couldn’t be certain about the scale, because even the neon-glow brightness of the sign couldn’t penetrate the full dimensions of the alcove; even the stalactite the sign was attached to simply faded away into the murky gloom above, with no visible ceiling.

What the sign did reveal was an amorphous yet inviting structure that reminded Judy of a giant den; a large tunnel entrance lay directly underneath the sign and stalactite, its way lit tastefully yet unobtrusively by a dim light strip. A few smaller tunnel entrances flanked either side of the main entrance, but were built with slightly offset positions and different diameters in order to enhance the impression that these were natural organic structures, and not engineered designs. The effect was so much like a rabbit warren that she felt a quick stab of homesickness. As her eyes adjusted further, she could just make out shadowy figures, in singles or in pairs, walking in and out of all the entrances.

The sign was not nearly as subtle as the casino. Giant pink (or was it mauve?) letters sat suspended over the amorphous casino shape:

**VISION**

CASINO

The word “vision” was spelled out in a dreamy, shimmering script, as if the letters had been formed from steam rising from a hot pool of water. In contrast, like a duller yet more reliable sibling, the word “casino” was spelled out in large block letters. Both words were mounted on the front of the large stalactite, which was suspended over the rest of the casino like a dagger poised to drop on top of the main entrance, an oddly sinister touch on an architecture that was clearly intended to invoke an impression of a warm and inviting den to lose money in. Judy never gambled herself, but when one has hundreds of relatives, there are always a few stray uncles who dropped hints about how such places worked.

As she was about to shift her attention to another, more distant, candidate for signage, her phone beeped. Finally.

Whipping her iCarrot out, she impatiently tapped her foot as the wait bar loaded, and then she squinted at Nick’s text. For once, the fox had sent a picture unaccompanied by any snarky commentary. Probably preoccupied with handling Fennel, no doubt. She shuffled to the side of the pedestrian path and huddled over her one remaining solid lead.

As she had remembered, the photo revealed a clump of mushrooms, lovingly framed near the center of the image by Wiley the coyote. The clump sat in the middle of some sort of subterranean tunnel passage, which was very damp. The walls glistened with moisture, and numerous puddles dotted the floor.

She zoomed in on one of the larger puddles, which was partially cut off by the edge of the photo. In the absolutely still reflection of the puddle surface, she could see a pinkish (mauve?) arrangement of neon streaks. At first glance she could only make out fragments of letters. She squinted further. For a moment she thought the surface of the puddle had somehow been disturbed, distorting the reflected letters. However, after a moment of further study, she realized that it was the letter fragments themselves that were distorted, appearing to… shimmer.

Eyes widening, the young officer flicked her gaze from the bright screen back to the word ‘vision’ in the casino name, also written in odd, shimmering script. As her (admittedly limited) night vision returned, she noted how the cavern wall behind the casino was pockmarked with a myriad of small openings. The limestone rock beneath her feet must be riddled with small tunnels and passages, like a muddy Swiss cheese.

Even while completing that thought, she hurried toward the casino entrance, merging with the steady trickle of mammals converging there. As the main entrance loomed over her, she spotted long tapestries of intricate geometric patterns that she recognized from the traditional garb the elderly coyotes had worn at the awards ceremony last week. A variety of small all-night fast food places and loan sharks surrounded the large casino, giving the neighborhood a slightly seedy feel. But as Judy stepped aside to avoid a clutch of possums, she couldn’t identify any abandoned shacks or other derelict places that she thought would hide an illicit mushroom farm.

She looked at the image again. Although no letter was completely visible in the pool reflection, if she stretched her imagination she thought one of the letters could be a ‘V’. A letter that looked the same from the front or behind. Could this site be located _behind_ the sign? Behind the stalactite? In the cavern wall? So many openings and habitats there. How to even start? Even her natural optimism quailed at the prospect of spending hours poking her snout into countless random muddy passages.

She resolutely forced down a rising sense of hopelessness. She forced her mind clear and tried to re-examine the photo with fresh eyes. Let’s assume that this farm was somewhere in the cavern walls behind this casino. She grabbed a bottle of water from her utility belt and dumped it on the ground, ignoring the curious glances of a couple of passerby. She then marched around the tiny puddle until she saw the reflection of the sign in it. She had to crouch low to see the sign’s reflection from a couple of hundred meters away. The coyote wasn’t crouching when taking the picture, he’d stood – and she guessed he was about twice her height. What did that say about the true distance to the sign? A few rusty geometrical formulas later, she realized that Wiley had to have been quite close to the sign, within 100 meters or less. That cut down the search area, but with a sinking heart she realized that hours of searching still lay in her future.

She had been so preoccupied with looking at water that she hadn’t paid much attention to the animals passing by, but a particularly shaggy silhouette caught her eye. Swiveling her head for another look, she wondered what was so familiar about the yak sauntering up the stairs into the entrance. It was the gait – that lopping gait. Where had she seen it before? And then she realized-

“Yax?”

The yak, framed against the casino’s main entrance, turned around, pulling back his thick mane to get a better view of her. Maybe it was the darkness, but there weren’t as many flies buzzing around him as she had remembered at the Mystic Springs Oasis. For a moment, she felt awkward. Had she made a mistake? Truth be told, a lot of animals from other species looked alike to her, a fact she was never, ever going to admit to anyone, especially Nick.

“Hey, look, the bunny scouts are selling cookies in front of casinos! Nice to see you again, Officer Hopps!”

It was the clothes that had thrown her off. Actually, it was the fact that he had any clothes on at all. While a pair of shorts and a faded T-shirt were hardly elegant attire, it was a step up from all her previous memories of Yax, where she all too clearly remembered him—as her Gramps liked to put it—as “nekkeder than a dumb buck in a smart game of strip poker.” Now, as they approached each other, she could see the faded “Mystic Springs Oasis” logo imprinted on the front of his shirt. Clearly, this mammal had no secret life to hide from anyone: he didn’t care if anyone knew he belonged to a naturalist club.

“Hello, Yax. So you do remember me!”

 

He waved a hoof like he was swatting away a fly. “Oh yeah, of course I do! It’s been only 831 days since we last talked!” He pursed his lips together thoughtfully. “And I emailed you a free trial membership to the Oasis 729 days ago. Did you ever get it?”

“Er, yeah, I did,” she laughed awkwardly.

“Funny, I could be wrong, but I don’t remember ever seeing you come by.”

“Oh, well,” she blurted out nervously, “you know life at the ZPD. Never a spare moment.”

“Yeah, your partner, the fox, said you were always a bit busy.”

“You’ve talked to Nick? I mean, since we, um, last visited?”

“Oh, sure! He took the trial membership.”

Momentarily at a loss for words, she thought it best to switch subjects. “So what brings you down here?”

“Ain’t it obvious?” the yak grinned, and did a little belly dance while rubbing his hooves together in mid air. “I’m just dropping in to fill up the petty cash till for the club!”

“You’re gambling?”

“Oh, sure thing! You see, turns out I’m really lucky at cards, especially poker. So every couple of weeks I stop by the tables here and earn a few extra towels and lawn ornaments for my favorite hangout!” He paused thoughtfully. “It always amazes me how most players don’t pay more attention to hands that were dealt out ten rounds back. But hey, more money for me, I guess. Anyway, I see you’re in uniform, so I’m guessing it’s business and not pleasure that brings you here?”

“Yeah,” she said, beckoning the yak to the side of the small street. “I’m actually trying to locate a hidden...um...facility around here, related to an ongoing investigation.” A sudden inspiration hit her. “You said you came here every few weeks, right?”

Yax nodded his shaggy head vigorously, dislodging a few forlorn flies.

 

“So you’ve been here a few times over the past couple of months?” Judy continued.

“Yup.” 

Judy was not one to believe in luck. Dedication, determination, and hard work were her instinctive responses to any challenge. That said, if Fortune wanted to toss her a rutabaga once in a while, she wasn’t going to complain. She gestured to the cavern wall behind the casino. “You wouldn’t have happened to notice if anything, um, has changed in the area back there over the past month or so?”

The lanky herbivore craned his sleepy gaze toward the wall and worried his lip. “Sorry, officer, but I really haven’t paid much attention outside the casino. Usually I’m reciting my chakra meditations as I walk in, psyching myself up for serious poker combat.” He paused, then tilted his head slightly, as if listening to a distant voice. “Though I don’t remember seven posts in that chain link fence back there. Coulda sworn there were only six.” He gestured toward a fence barely visible emerging up the wall behind the casino.

“You might have just saved me a lot of time!” beamed Judy. “Thanks so much!”

“Don’t mention it!” Yax shrugged. “You’ve helped the club become a bit of a tourist attraction since the Night Howler crisis. Just sorry I couldn’t help more.”

“You’ve been a great help already,” she answered, while resolutely refusing to imagine a group of naked animals standing around, staring at the spot where she had once interviewed Nangi the elephant.

“Cool. Remember, there’s no expiration date on the trial membership,” Yax said. “You should come join Nick some time.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she smiled weakly, as the yak turned and lumbered back toward the casino entrance.

 

 

The area adjacent to the cavern wall was relatively uninhabited; full of storage units and utility sheds, as well as an anchored trans-zip line. The stalagmites were thick and untrimmed here, making maneuvering tricky without boots. Silt and mud covered everything, and Judy saw multiple trickles of water emerging from several spots along the cavern wall.

There were entry holes everywhere, which looked like they had been created by some sort of demented undead rabbit warren. No clean, smooth, warm burrows or dens here; instead, there was a plethora of sharp-edged tubes (she refused to call them burrows) of countless different diameters scattered along the wall, most fairly close to ground level. Some were clogged up with silt, but others revealed multiple branches whenever she aimed her hi-beam into the entrance.

For the hundredth time she consulted the picture, trying to judge angles and distances to the ‘V’ in the sign versus what she could spot in the ubiquitous little muddy pools and puddles she encountered while working her way behind the casino. She often spotted partial pawprints in the muddy spaces between stalagmites, but these paths were so frequented that the mud had been churned up into a mess, obliterating any individual prints.

She steadily worked her way over to the chain link fence Yax had noted earlier. As she rounded a final bend of the casino (the amorphously-shaped structure didn’t have a corner, per se), she saw that the casino was connected directly to the cavern wall via a large air conditioner trunk, which emerged from the wall and exploded into a veritable maze of branching side passages that plunged into various portions of the building, as well as ran up to the roof. Two brick walls extended from the back of the casino, flanking both sides of the ducting. They converted into chain link fences as the ground sloped into the cavern wall. Here and there, she spotted boarded up holes and warning signs plastered across the higher reaches of the wall. She noted security cameras clustered like odd growths along the brick walls, but noted none visible along the chain link fence portion.

            Judy clambered gingerly toward one of the chain link fences that followed the steep terrain to a height above the casino roof. She reached the fence and worked her way up along it, slipping on the steepening slope. At the sixth post, she halted and peered at the links. The section here was new, bright silver gleaming under her pocket mag-lite, contrasting dramatically with the tarnished and rusted sheen of the previous links. The new section ran up the slope another 20 meters or so before terminating in a locked metal cage that covered a narrow fissure in the wall. The lock reflected strongly in her beam. Also new. This entrance had been sealed only sometime over the past few weeks. She stared appraisingly at the muddy delta emerging underneath the cage from the fissure. The area in front of the cage was still churned up, but inside the cage, the mud and silt patches she could see were smooth, completely free of any marks at all. Strange. She flicked her light side-to-side, examining where the walls of the fissure dropped into the muddy bottom. She spotted ridges of mud squished against the entryway. Interesting. Someone had tried to scrape the ground smooth here. She looked around. No cameras up this far, that she could spot. She pulled out a telescoping probing stick from her equipment belt, locked it in place, shoved it straight down into the sediment in front of the cage gate, and put her full body weight onto it. Despite her petite frame, she managed to shove nearly a meter of rod into the silty delta before she felt contact with rock. She checked the bottom of the cage door. Nope, it didn’t extend into the mud. A slapdash effort, done in a hurry.

            She groaned internally at the thought of getting her neoprene uniform muddy, but the inner child in her gigled at the prospect of digging a tunnel. Fish belong in water, rabbits belong in dirt, as the saying went. No way around it. She removed her phone and belt, then set to work. It was harder going than the soil she had been raised on in Bunnyburrow: it was much denser, wetter, and highly clumpy. The fun of digging lasted for around 30 seconds, and then the next minute or so was simply an onerous chore. Finally, a muddy, slimy figure wiggled its way up inside the cage, futilely tried to wipe its paws, then reached through the cage door to retrieve belt and phone. Judy switched on her high beam and slipped into the fissure.

            The narrow passage opened up almost immediately into a small round chamber. Pale white tendrils of some stringy fungus draped from the ceiling, emitting a faint glow. She immediately spotted the large puddle midway down the chamber. Quick as thought she leapt over it, placing it between herself and the fissure’s opening. A mauve letter ‘V’ stared unblinkingly up at her from the preternaturally calm puddle surface. Daintily tapping her phone, trying to keep it as clean as possible, she consulted Nick’s image, then adjusted her position until she was certain she was at the same location where the photo had been taken. She then crouched on her haunches, mulling the scene in front of her.

            The mushrooms were gone. Indeed, the entire floor seemed to be stripped bare, flattened into large flat patches of mud, broken by an isolated rock or two. The back end of the chamber narrowed into a fissure once again, apparently continuing into a tunnel deeper into the wall. Judy approached a broad spot of muddy floor, confirming that it had been wiped clean. Someone had run a board or large trowel over the chamber floor. She cast a desultory glance over the few rocks embedded in the floor, but the cleaning job had been thorough.

            She entered the second fissure. Now, the passageway began twisting back and forth over rougher and rockier ground. It would be harder to smooth down the floor here; she just had to be patient.

            Seven meters down the passage, Judy found her first prints. A narrow trail of little pawprints lay in a straight line across a small silt channel between two large rocks. Some kind of canine, she figured, since the claws were visible. She snapped a photo with her phone and moved on. Emboldened by this success, and now knowing where to look, she began spotting quite a few isolated prints in small patches of mud between rock outcroppings. She did see smooth patches as well, but the coverage was now spotty, as if the trowel holder had only dabbed the larger mud patches farther in. The prints varied widely in size—there must have been several individuals moving through here.

            The fissure merged into a larger passageway, one with a strong breeze. Casting her light left, Judy saw a large fan filling an open air duct 15 meters away. The fan was blowing air from the duct into the tunnel, and she smelled tinges of cigarette smoke and sweat in the artificial wind. The casino was venting into the tunnel. She had no idea why; maybe due to the relatively stagnant air of the Nocturnal District, businesses were required to vent used air into underground passageways, which might have better circulation? She hadn’t a clue.

            What she did know was pawprints,, since part of her training had involved recognizing prints from over 70 species. That background came in useful now, because many pawprints covered the floor here, oriented in all directions. She took a quick video, then stopped as she glimpsed a lone, clean print pressed into a silty, elliptical patch underneath a small ledge by the wall.

            It was a webbed foot.

            Judy stared at the print for a while. There was only one species she knew of that could make such a mark.

            _“I take it you’ve never seen a platypus before, hon?” Zilda asked Judy. There was a bit of Fru-Fru’s manner in Zilda’s mannerisms and voice. Although Fru-Fru never sported a duck bill._

_“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” Judy hurriedly assured her. “I had heard about marsupials, but you’re the first one I’ve ever met. I’m sorry about your species being endangered and all-” She hesitated. Was it rude to bring the subject up?_

_“Actually, dear, I think I’m actually a monotreme, but I appreciate the sentiment.” She gave the young rabbit a coy wink._

_Judy paused, deciding how to phrase the delicate question. “My partner, over there, who’s a little preoccupied right now, told me earlier that he saw you dance with your husband a few years ago.”_

_Sheila, the flying squirrel, looked over at her co-performer, concerned, as Zilda looked down. “Yes, Zordo and I performed together. I’m afraid he’s been - ill - for quite some time now.”_

_Despite that news, Judy felt some relief: Zilda wasn’t the last of her kind, after all._

_“I’m sorry to hear that. Hope he feels better.”_

_“Yes, we all do,” Shelia added, giving her small companion a small supportive hug. “I hope-I’m sure- he’ll be back someday.”_

            Very carefully, Judy took several photos of the print, placing a coin nearby for scale. She checked her cell for reception. None. Not surprising. The main passageway continued into the darkness, away from the fan. She could hear nothing over the roar of the fan, and her smell was swamped by the odors blowing past her down the tunnel, but she felt, she _knew_ , that if she went just a little bit farther, there’d be more answers waiting to be unearthed…

            She had already taken two steps further down the tunnel—

            _“Yeah, I’m angry. Angry to see you unhurt after how careless and cavalier you’ve been with yourself and your partner, while he’s sitting back there injured, with who knows what permanent damage-”_

—before she forced herself to stop, clenching her muddy paws. She was out of cell contact, and nobody, not even Nick, knew where she was. She had to be responsible. Fighting every instinct for pursuit, she forced herself to turn back up the fissure and work her way toward the small chamber once again. Whatever might be down the tunnel, she had to risk that it would still be there when she came back. With Nick. With reinforcements. Nick deserved to be in on this.

            There was still only a single bar on her phone from inside the cage. Resigned to her fate, she left her phone by the cage door and squirmed back through the squicky mud, resembling a large, lumpy earthworm as she emerged back onto the steep canyon wall. Rinsing her hands off with a small water bottle, she retrieved the phone through the cage gate and checked the signal level. Still weak, but maybe good enough to get a text through.

NICK, IM BEHIND THE VISION CASINO.

**< send message>**

FOUND WHERE PHOTO TAKEN. MANY PRINTS, POSS. YOUNG COYOTES. DEF. DUCK BILLED PLATEEPUSS.

**< send message>**

Judy stopped for a moment, her vague suspicions and impressions gelling into words.

 

KIDNAPPING OR EXTORTION RING?

**< send message>**

 

She remembered Laughin’s words on the street a few days ago.

_“I’m a coyote. An endangered species. We keep shrinking in population. I know personally all the others of my generation.”_

SOMEONE KIDNAPPING ENDANGERED MAMMALS 4 RANSOM?

**< send message>**

 

The words had typed themselves. She stared at them, the implications sinking in.

 

WE NEED OFFICERS ON SCENE ASAP. PLSE CONTACT DISPATCH.

**< send message>**

PLSE REPLY

**< send message>**

 

She waited, feeling her heart accelerate and her pulse hammer. The phone beeped.

 

**< messages not sent>**

 

            “For the love of…” she swore, then began stumbling down the slope, back toward the street and better reception, nearly tripping several times as she kept one eye constantly on her phone reception.

            Finally, she dropped down onto an access street without a single stalagmite to step on, and saw three bars appear. But before she could touch her screen, it rang. She stared at the screen in shock.

 

< **Peter Hodges, incoming** >

 

            She didn’t want to be rude, but now was not the time. She declined the call, then selected “Dumb Fox” from her contact list.

            “Come on, come on, Nick,” she muttered as the phone rang. Five times. Six times. And then…disconnection. Funny, not even a voicemail.

 

< **Peter Hodges, incoming** >

 

Fine. She hit accept.

            “Peter?”

 

            “Officer Hopps? I mean, Judy?”

 

            “Yes, it’s me. Look, sorry to talk over you, but this is urgent. I need you to contact ZPD dispatch—I’ll give you the number in just a sec, along with my badge ID—you’ll need that too. Tell them they need to set up a crime scene and perimeter at the Vision Casino, in the Nocturnal District. I don’t care what District does it, we need badges on the ground here ASAP. You got that? It’s spelled ‘V-I-S-I-’”

            “Judy-”

            “I also need you to try and call my partner, Nick. But first, my badge ID is ‘A113-’”

            “JUDY!”

            Stunned at the sharp tone, she stopped.“What?”

            “Sorry to yell, but I need to tell you something first, and then I’ll call, promise.”

            “What is it?”

            “It’s, um, a delicate situation, and I felt it’d be better if I told you first before contacting the ZPD. Not sure how to move on it, to be frank.”

            “OK, quick, tell me. But hurry!” Her foot was tapping the limestone dirt like a jackhammer. She briskly walked toward the casino entrance.

            “Yeah, well, it’s about your partner.”

            She froze.

            “I was updating your phone app with some additional data. Figured you’d like more records about Sage Water and her associates?”

            “Yeah?” she responded cautiously.

            “Well, turns out one of her ex-husbands is still pulling down kit care benefits. And it’s not small kibble, either. We’re talking tens of thousands of dollars here.”

            “Look, I’m interested, Peter, really, but-”

            “Bear with me. I pulled up info on this guy. This… Munches on Blueberries.”

            An icy bolt of fear shot down her side.

            “Still there?”

            “Yeah,” she uttered, heart in throat.

            “So, I looked at his picture, and I think, I suspect, anyway, that it’s actually your partner. Actually, I know. Because the account for the electronic deposit for this ‘Munches’? I checked city tax records, and your partner paid his taxes electronically from that same account. Odd though. Looks like he never paid taxes, at least electronically, until a couple of years ago.”

            She closed her eyes, remembering Nick’s words from last night.

_“This whole thing ended over twelve years ago, so I decided to roll the dice and didn’t write down anything about my alter ego. My name wasn’t associated with any paperwork concerning Munches, so I bet that any routine review of my background would miss the connection, and no one would ever look at the ID photo.”_

                        She opened them, frowning. Had Peter just said the tax filings were only a couple of years old?

            “So when were these benefits last paid?”

            “Oh, they’ve been going on for years. Up to at least 13 years ago. Heck, the last deposit was made only yesterday.”

* * *

 

**Author Notes:**

**Those of you who remember the plot of this story (from a year ago!) may be wondering, “Oh no, are we doing yet another round of angst and drama?” Two things:**

**(1) In fairy tales, things come in threes.**

**(2) I’ll try to post the next chapter in one week, to resolve this question. Please stoke my ego with a review, and I might post it sooner. Egos like stoking ;-). Thanks again to beta readers DrummerMax64 and TinBuzzard, and thanks everyone as always for your support and your patience!**


	20. A Little Memento

 

NOTE: THE TIMES LISTED BELOW ARE IMPORTANT.

 

**12:45, Tuesday afternoon**

Chief Bogo carefully squared away the paperwork on his otherwise spotless desk, except for a few reports placed in front of him. He then folded his hooves and stared down over his spectacles at Nick and Judy. The early afternoon sun slanted through the blinds of the one window, forming a warm and inviting patch on the rug in the corner of his office. As usual, Nick sat in his favorite spot by the filing cabinet, while Judy sat at attention in what the officers, out of earshot of their captain, privately called the “interrogation chair.” Small flakes of dried mud fluttered off her neoprene uniform and gathered into a small pile in front of her chair, sullying the otherwise pristine carpet.

 

“You requested an urgent meeting with me,” the buffalo said without preamble, apparently choosing to ignore the mud. “I was under the impression you’d received clear and precise instructions on how to wrap up this case, but apparently you think differently. You,” he turned to Judy, “basically forced Clawhauser to call up and check if I was free.” He raised his hooves. “As it so happens, I’m between two scheduled crises right now. Officer Hopps, make this meeting worth my time.”

 

Nick glanced sidelong at Judy, who sat ramrod straight and didn’t return his gaze at all. In fact, during the five minutes they’d waited outside, she’d stood apart from him politely but firmly, rebuffing any attempts to explain what she’d been up to this morning.

 

“Thank you for meeting us on such short notice, sir,” Judy said crisply. “Something’s come up that needs your involvement right away.”

 

Bogo’s ear merely flicked as he stared down toward Judy.

 

“I’ve become aware of a conflict of interest that may compromise the legal integrity of the case we’ve been working on.”

 

“The arson case.”

 

“Yes, sir. You see, it turns out that Officer Wilde was once married to an important person of interest in the case, but hasn’t previously disclosed this relationship.”

 

The temperature in the room fell a few degrees. Nick’s neutral smile turned wooden.

 

Bogo turned to his desktop computer, shoving his spectacles onto his forehead. After a few moments, he shot an intense stare at Nick. “What was the name of your ex-wife, and when were you married?” Nick, who had been watching Judy out of the corner of his eye, started at the cutting tone of his superior.

 

“Sagebrush Water, sir. She was the mother of the kit I, I mean, _we_ , rescued from the recent apartment fire.” After a pause, he continued. “We were married for around a year and a half, and we ended it a little over a decade ago.”

 

Bogo’s stare remained pinned on Nick.

 

“Furthermore,” Judy cut in, and both fox and buffalo pivoted to face her. Clearing her throat, paws clasped together on her lap, she spoke a bit more strongly. “Furthermore, while he was married, Officer Wilde posed as a coyote in order to illegally obtain welfare benefits. If you review the attachment I just emailed you, you’ll see a photo on the original welfare application.”

 

Nick could no longer suppress his astonishment, and now stared openly at Judy, who resolutely refused to meet his earnest eyes. The Cape buffalo’s chair creaked as he pivoted again back to his screen. After a few more mouse clicks, the two partners both saw a crisp black and white ID photo of a cocky coyote. Bogo eyed the photo, critically, his brow gradually contracting, but otherwise did not make a sound for a long time.

 

“Munches on Blueberries,” he finally growled. He quickly swiped through several digital files.

 

“His pseudonym, yes,” Judy answered.

 

Bogo was busy at the computer again.

 

“I have your original ZPD application online here, Officer Wilde,” he grunted, “along with your pre-employment background investigation.” He frowned as he fast-forwarded through the pages. “I remember what a mess this thing was. It’d make a book if we ever printed it out.” He huffed. “Would be easy for me to overlook something like this. So are you claiming, Officer Hopps, that Officer Wilde never disclosed this information?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Bogo looked askance at Wilde. “Do you, Officer Wilde, admit that you did not disclose this previous marriage, false identify, or welfare fraud during your background check?”

 

Nick struggled internally with himself for a second, then squared his shoulders. “No, I did not, sir,” he said curtly but calmly.

 

“What welfare benefits were claimed, and when?”

 

“If you look at the other attachments I sent, sir-” Judy began.

 

“I think I’m gonna want to hear this from Wilde’s muzzle directly,” interrupted Bogo. “Well?”

 

Licking his chops nervously, Nick replied, “It was kit support benefits, sir, to support an actual kit of Sagebrush Water.”

 

“Your wife at the time.”

 

“Yes. Sir.” Bogo waited, but Nick volunteered nothing else.

 

“For how long and for how much?”

 

“Um, I extracted benefits for four years, two years after my initial divorce, which would be about ten years ago. I can’t remember the exact amount off the top of my head, but I think it was a total of a few tens of thousands of dollars.”

 

The room fell gravely silent once more.

           

“You think,” deadpanned Bogo.

 

Judy took a deep breath. “Actually-”

 

Fox and buffalo turned again.

 

“Actually, that’s not true.”

 

A pregnant pause, and then Bogo’s chair creaked again as he swiveled back to Judy.

 

“This morning I learned that Officer Wilde has been receiving these benefits under his assumed name for over a decade, including up and through yesterday morning.” She paused. “So he’s been receiving benefits during the entire time he’s been enrolled as a ZPD officer.” There was no mistaking the brittleness in her voice.

 

Nick’s ears flagged upward, along with his tail. “Wait, what?”

 

Bogo removed the glasses from his forehead and squeezed his temples, looking suddenly quite tired.

 

“Officer Hopps, when did you first become aware of this situation? Was it this morning?”

 

“No, two days ago, sir.” She continued to sit ramrod straight, ears erect, attention focused squarely on Bogo, as if he were the only mammal in the room. “I first became aware of the existence of the marriage and fake identity while searching a database while on bed rest.” She hesitated, then spoke more carefully. “I confronted Officer Wilde last night with this information, and he verbally confirmed it, as well as revealed his welfare scheme…” She was silent for a moment, searching for the right words. “I made the judgment at the time not to report this information, as I was led to believe that the scheme had taken place long ago, before Officer Wilde had even met me or had even joined the ZPD. But this morning, Peter Hodges, my contact at the Hall of Records, provided additional files that indicated that the welfare scam and false identity had remained in place up through only yesterday, and so Officer Wilde had continued this scheme while a sworn officer of the ZPD”.

 

“That’s not true!” barked Nick.

 

“These are the files that I just emailed to you recently, that you’re looking at now,” Judy continued, as if Nick hadn’t spoken. “At that point, I felt that I had to report this information at the earliest possible moment. And so, here we are.”

 

“I’m not getting any benefits now!”

 

Bogo slammed a hoof onto his desk, silencing Wilde, but otherwise said nothing. He turned slowly to Nick.

 

“Wilde, do you admit that you did not report a previous marriage, false identity, and welfare fraud on your ZPD application?”

 

Nick hesitated as he worked his way through the grammar.

 

“Yes, but like I said, that was over a decade ago-”

 

“The ‘yes’ is all I need,” Bogo snapped, slicing Nick off. For a moment, the chief seemed at a loss for words. Then, he seemed to reach an internal decision. He pressed a button on his desk phone.

 

“Ben, I need you to patch me through to Robbins at District 4,” he grunted. “And send up two on-duty officers to my office,” he added, releasing the button before Clawhauser could reply.

 

Nick leaned urgently toward Judy.

 

“Judy, I swear, whatever that rabbit showed you, it’s gotta be fake. I told you everything last night-”

 

“I’ll need to relay this situation to District 4 right away,” broke in Bogo, as Judy sat stone-faced. “Since this case’s jurisdiction is transferring to them in just a few hours, they’ll have to make the final call as to whether this investigation has been fatally compromised.” He cleared his throat. “Officer Wilde, you are hereby suspended without pay from all forms of ZPD duty, pending further notice.”

 

There was a knock on the door, and McHorn and Delgato entered, the latter looking slightly nervous.

 

“Look, sir, if this is about that whoopie cushion in the coffee room-” the large cat began.

 

“Shut it,” grunted Bogo. “Officer Wilde, these two officers are to escort you to the temporary holding cells.” He turned to the startled officers. “Officer Wilde is going to be detained for at least 24 hours, so make sure he has adequate provisions and linens during that time.”

 

“Sir?” Delgato said, eyes widening as he looked at Nick.

 

“You heard me. I’m detaining Officer Wilde as part of a disciplinary and possibly criminal investigation, and I believe he represents a potential flight risk.” He turned to the fox. “I have the right to detain you for 24 hours, after which I will need to file formal charges. I hope for your sake, and for the reputation of foxes everywhere, that I don’t have to.”

 

“I’ve been framed,” Nick said steadily. Firmly.

 

“I don’t care,” said Bogo. “McHorn, after securing Wilde, I want you to locate and bring in this-” he glanced down at some notes, “-Peter Hodges, a rabbit working in the Hall of Records. Officer Hopps will be joining you shortly at the dispatch desk to assist you. Hopps, wait here for a moment. I need a word with you alone.”

 

He gestured toward the open door and stared pointedly at McHorn, Delgato, and Wilde. “Go.”

 

Nick stood up. “Don’t believe this, Judy!” he hissed frantically, oblivious to the stares and glares from the other officers. “You gotta trust me-”

 

His partner roused herself from her self-absorption.

 

“I did,” she said tonelessly. “Twice. Strike three, Wilde.”

           

The trio trooped out the door, McHorn casting an uncertain glance at Judy before gently shutting the door behind them. Before the door completely closed, the rabbit gave a last parting look.

 

“I’m sorry I ever asked for your forgiveness on top of that bridge, long ago.” Nick’s eyes widened in shock, and then the door clicked shut.

 

Bogo and Judy were now alone in the office, the young rabbit staring glassy-eyed at the floor. She heaved what might have been a sigh, what might have been a sob.

 

The chief’s grim expression softened, and he rose, grabbed a box of tissues, and dropped them in the ample space of the enormous chair enveloping Judy. “Internal Affairs is going to have to conduct a review of your actions as well, Hopps. They’ll want to know why you waited nearly a day to report this, and even then, why you only reported it once it was clear that a civilian was going to report it anyway.” Judy didn’t look up or respond. “I have a feeling that it’s all going to be a formality. I know this must have been a difficult decision for you.”

 

“He was my friend,” she said quietly, “and he’s saved my life and career time and time again. But-”

 

“-but he was forcing you to choose between the ZPD and him. The law and him,” Bogo finished. He turned toward the window, hooves held behind his back. “It’s too bad. I was actually starting to build some immunity to him and his juvenile antics. And foxes in general.” He pursed his lips. “You know, I once had to make a decision like yours, when I was a young, bright-eyed cop. Between friendship and my commitment to the law.” He paused. “I won’t lie, it still hurts to think about it. But each year, it hurts a little less. And I have no regrets about my choice.” He looked over his shoulder. “I can look myself in the eye at a mirror and not feel guilt. Long-term, that’s worth it.”

 

He turned back. “You’re a good cop, Hopps, and it’d be a shame if this incident turned you into a cynic so early into your career. Time enough for that.” Judy looked up, faintly puzzled, wondering whether her superior had actually attempted a joke. A hoof gently pressed onto her shoulder.

 

“Sometimes mammals let you down, but you know, other times they can surprise you and exceed your expectations and prejudices. Don’t let this… tragedy… change who you are too much.”

 

He might have intended his words to be encouraging, but Judy only slumped further in her chair. Bogo studied her defeated form.

 

“You’re off duty until tomorrow. Go home, rest, or walk around in the sunshine, do whatever rabbits do to put things in perspective. Be back in the bullpen tomorrow.” He opened the door, and Judy trudged out, absently rubbing a small rubber wristband.

 

* * *

 

**12:25, Tuesday afternoon, twenty minutes earlier**

Nicholas P Wilde sauntered into the ZPD headquarters, feeling like a new fox. Well, at least like a slightly younger fox. True, his tail was still complaining about past ill-treatment, but still, it was remarkable what wonders a shower, a clean set of clothes, and three lattes could do on your outlook. To his surprise, their complicated plan seemed to be proceeding unusually smoothly. Back at the hospital, Fennel had returned to his bedside around an hour after Judy had left, spare uniform in one paw, and his charger in the other. While the phone had charged he had flirted, managing to text Judy the Photo (it seemed to deserve a capital letter at this point) without raising questions from the inquisitive (yet witty) vixen.

 

“Howdy, Hauser!” He leaned nonchalantly against Clawhauser’s station.

 

“Wilde! I thought you’d still be lying flat in a hospital bed!” grinned the portly cat.

 

“Too stupid to stay there. How’s things at the center of the universe?”                      

 

“Been hearing a lot about a real ugly flying fox underground.” He paused. “I never even thought it was possible to fly underground.” He turned his screen so Nick could see a now-familiar photo of him riding rodeo on a large bat, while Judy wrestled with its head. “Judy’s been giving you another workout, I see.” The dispatcher pointed to Nick’s shirtless torso. “At least it looks like it’s keeping you in shape,” he grinned, looking like an overfed Cheshire Cat. “The blogger certainly thinks so.”

 

“Is that Fennel’s Findings?”

 

“Yup. Looks like you got yourself a _fan_ , Officer Wilde.”

 

“For today. I’m sure I’ll screw up soon. If there’s anything the press loves more than a hero, it’s a fallen hero.” He pointed toward the frozen image of Judy, staring straight ahead. “Speaking of our little wrecking ball, she in yet?”

 

The chubby cheetah shook his head. “Nope, but wasn’t expecting her either. Wasn’t she in the hospital too?”

 

“Yeah, but you know her. Just keeps going and going. So she hasn’t called in either?”

 

“Not a peep on either phone or radio,” Clawhauser said, perking an eyebrow. “Something up?”

 

Nick didn’t let his façade slip, but he was getting a bit worried. After receiving a brief text acknowledging receipt of the Photo, he hadn’t heard back from his partner at all. He knew how self-sufficient and capable she was, but still… she was usually religious about updating him on work-related issues.

 

Fennel was the only one to receive a text message. About an hour into her second visit, she had glanced at her phone and excused herself. After she had squeezed his paw lightly in farewell, she had paused at the doorway, giving him an odd, scrutinizing look, as if trying to memorize the details of his face. She had then left, leaving Nick with an oddly forlorn feeling.

 

Feeling restless, Nick had then scrambled into his spare uniform, persuaded a skeptical doctor to release him, and hovered over his phone as he took the public transit route to ZPD headquarters. He’d checked in with Finnick, who had let him know that Fennel had been discouragingly efficient in gathering his stuff, and disappointingly polite in refraining from tossing his apartment.

 

“Got some nice shots of her, though, that you might want to keep,” the deep bass voice had snickered. “Just for your own personal use.” Nick had chewed him out half-heartedly, but he had signed Finnick off quickly, since he still hadn’t heard from his partner.   His calls to her had been routed to an annoyingly cheerful and upbeat voicemail set to Gazelle music. And now, as Clawhauser stared at him curiously, the vague unease which had been rumbling on the horizon developed into a low-grade storm of worry.

 

“You worried about her, Nick? I mean, the case you two were secretly working on… it’s done with, right?” the rotund dispatcher timorously asked, tapping on the bat visible on his computer display. “The suspect’s now in custody and confessed… or so I hear.”

 

“Technically, maybe…” smiled Nick between tight teeth.

 

“Then it’s probably nothing to worry about.” The feline abruptly brightened, sitting up straight, whiskers standing at attention. “In fact, there she is now!”

 

Relieved, Nick turned and saw the familiar outline of his partner entering through the front glass doors. She was vigorously rubbing her face with a towel while holding an intense conversation with Officer McHorn, who was walking ridiculously contorted as he struggled to bend over far enough in order to hear the diminutive rabbit. Nick frowned. She looked agitated, with shoulders uncharacteristically slumped, rubbing her wrist bracelet with some agitation. Then there was the small matter that the normally spit-and-polish bunny looked like she had just crawled through a mud trench.

 

While cleaning out one ear with the towel, she turned and spotted him—

 

“Police! Police Rabbit! Path walker! Help me!”

 

Sage Water – Wiley’s sister, Laffin’s mother, Nick’s ex-wife and all-around pain in the butt – stumbled through the doorway several meters behind the pair of officers. She looked unhinged, even by her usual standards, her tongue actually lolling out the side of her muzzle, panting. Even as Judy turned back toward the door, Nick accelerated his stride toward them, and McHorn placed a protective hoof in front of Judy, blocking her from Sage’s deranged murmurs. Both coyote and fox converged on Judy at the same time, and the three ZPD officers stood in a semicircle around the winded and panicked coyote.

 

“They are gone!” she whimpered. “All gone, like all the others! Help me, please!” she beseeched, actually dropping to her knees while attempting to reach out and grab Judy. McHorn started to loom between the predator and rabbit, but Nick slipped in front of Judy first.

 

“Hold on there, Sage, slow down,” he said firmly. “Who’s missing?”

 

She turned toward Nick, and to his surprise and unease he saw no hatred or disdain in her eyes, only panic and pleading. “My mother! My son! Both sons! My little baby! They’ve got them! I was out and around, and when I got back to our hiding den they were gone! Door was broken open! They finally found us, and I think they found my brother”. She gripped his uniform _hard_ , nearly yipping incomprehensibly.

 

“Who’s they?” Nick asked.

 

Sage pointed to Judy. “She knows! She saw them! The traps! The webs! When she traveled the Path like a true Person! Look at her! She knows I speak the Truth!”

 

Despite himself, Nick glimpsed back over his shoulder and did a double take. For just a second, Judy actually looked frightened, as if she’d seen a vengeful ghost rising from the grave. But with a move that could have been stolen from his own playbook, she clamped down her face and the calm, competent Judy he knew came forward.

 

“Hopps, you want help with this?” McHorn rumbled cautiously.

 

She patted his kneepad in reassurance. “Go ahead, John. We’re good here. And… thanks.” Some hidden meaning passed between the rhino and rabbit before the former lumbered away past Clawhauser, who was trying and failing to appear preoccupied with something else besides watching them. Judy walked around Nick and approached Sage.

 

“Sage, you need to calm down and take a breath. Let’s sit down over here and you tell us exactly what happened. But I need to tell you, we’re being transferred off the case-”

 

She laid a paw on the coyote’s wrist, and for a moment nothing happened. But then Nick saw Sage’s eyes widen in shock. She whisked away her arm from Judy like she’d been scalded.

 

“No! No! The webs have gotten you too! Oh no, no, no. Please not you. We have traveled the Path together, ‘shroom sister. Fight it. They’ve trapped you like they’ve trapped my family. Get away! Get away!”

 

As she spoke, the scrawny coyote backed away, bumping against the glass entry doors.

 

“Sage, no! Calm down!”

 

“I see the strings on you! I see the strings!” The panicked predator spun around and scrambled at the push bar, finally managing to bust open the door, fleeing and shouting down the sidewalk, attracting a forest of astonished faces from bemused mammals approaching or just walking by the ZPD.

 

Nick could only stare, dumbfounded, at the retreating figure. Even during her worst mushroom trips, his ex had never acted like this before. He headed toward the door, but then felt a firm grip on his arm. Flicking his gaze down, he saw Judy’s paw restraining him.

 

“Let’s give her some space. Um, if we try to follow her we may only panic her further. Anyway, we need to meet Bogo. _Now_.” She smiled slightly while saying the last word, but Nick recognized an order when he heard one.

 

“Bogo’s expecting us? Where have you been? I mean-” he looked at the dried mud flaking off her legs, “ _what_ have you been in? I was getting worried…”

 

“I’ll explain everything,” said Judy, marching briskly back toward Clawhauser’s desk. “Ben, we need to see the chief, urgently.”

 

“Um,” Clawhauser exchanged a confused look with Nick, then looked at his appointment calendar onscreen. “You know, I think he actually might be in. Let me call up.”

 

“Here, read this to him if he says he’s busy,” Judy said, scribbling something on a piece of paper and sliding it to the cheetah. The dispatcher’s eyes widened and nodded.

 

“C’mon Nick,” she said brusquely, marching ahead of Nick without a glance back. “I need to stop by the shower to clean up. You go on up and wait by Bogo’s office.”

 

“And then you’ll-”

 

“There’s quite a bit to say,” she interrupted, never breaking stride, “and it would be easiest if I only have to go through it once, in front of both you and Bogo.”

 

They were halfway up the stairs before Nick realized Judy hadn’t looked him in the eye once since her arrival at the ZPD.

 

* * *

 

**11:25, Tuesday morning, one hour earlier**

The mid-morning sun’s rays slanted gently through the branches of the elm tree that shaded the picnic table where Peter Hodges sat. Even from this distance, Judy could tell that his clothing taste hadn’t improved over the past week. She could also tell how nervous he was; she could see his black left ear twitching almost constantly in response to every shout or squeal from the young kits playing further away down the park. She wistfully watched a young antelope and leopard scrambling after a soccer ball. They were so carefree, unburdened by worry. What she would give to feel that again. Heck, to even feel like she had been just a few hours ago.

 

Peter was sitting on the picnic table, back to her, and despite the constant swiveling of his ears, she managed to walk up right behind him without him turning.

 

“Hi, Peter.”

 

He actually squealed and leapt up, spun to face her, clutching his paw to his chest.

 

“Judy! I mean, Officer Hopps! You’re so quiet!” He attempted to smile, but the young ZPD officer noted his dilated eyes, shallow breathing, and bristling fur. This was not a nervous rabbit. This was a frightened rabbit. Why?

 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” she replied soothingly. “And thanks for agreeing to meet me here.” She gestured to the ZPD headquarters visible on the other side of the Great Fountain. She could also see Nick’s favorite food cart, the giraffe-sized vehicle parked alongside the curb just as it had been a week ago, when they had first started this case.

 

_“Grandma said that even though that decision probably prevented a massacre, after that no one trusted foxes ever again, neither predator nor prey.”_

It all seemed like a century ago.

 

“As I said on the phone, I’m afraid I’m in a real hurry to get to the ZPD,” she continued. “And wouldn’t you know it? My phone died right after talking with you.” She pulled out her phone and frowned at the black screen. “Could’ve sworn the darn thing had at least a half charge left. Anyway, I did manage to contact headquarters from my car.” Peter sat silently. His clothes, if possible, seemed even more rumpled than previously.

 

“I think we’ve had a major breakthrough in this coyote case you’ve been assisting me on, but time may be important here. Did you also manage to contact the ZPD for me?”

 

His green eyes blinked. “Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah I did. Can’t remember the name, but they said that they’d look into sending an evidence team or something like that.”

 

“Great,” she said briskly. “Well, I really need to report in and join them, as well as call Nick-” she stopped and blanched.

 

“I… know this must be hard for you,” Peter said, eyeing her abrupt silence. “I had a hard time believing it myself, that your partner—Officer Wilde—could have been milking kit support benefits for over a decade. It was so blatant, kinda in-your-face. It was almost like he was asking to be caught-”

 

“Let’s just see what you have.” Anger, mixed with confusion, had been fighting for dominance in her heart over the last hour as she had walked back from the Vision Casino to the gondola. The mixture of horror, betrayal, and puzzlement had continued to consume her thoughts as she had driven to this rendezvous point. Even the thrill of possibly breaking open this Wiley case was now just an afterthought. Despite the urgency of these recent discoveries, she felt an overpowering desire, no, _need_ , to see Peter’s records with her own eyes, even if just for a moment. The records rabbit had refused to email her digital copies, citing concerns about “preserving the admissibility of potential legal evidence.” But he had agreed to meet her here on the way to ZPD. And now here he was, handing her a PawPad. And here was the familiar photo of Munches. And here was the reimbursement form, dated yesterday, made out to “Munches on Blueberries.” And here was a tax form with her partner’s name typed in. She compared account numbers between the reimbursement and tax forms. Perfect match. Nick had even scrawled a big loopy “Nicholas P Wilde” across the signature line of the tax form. The bold, even proud, signature stared up at her mockingly.

 

She felt a dull ache in her chest that she supposed to be betrayal or heartbreak. Nick had told her that he’d ended this long ago. Sworn that he’d told her everything relevant. But now—she felt no emotion at all, just a frigid numbness spreading from her body core to her head and limbs. Mechanically, she handed the PawPad back to Peter.

 

“Yeah, I see what you mean, but…” she trailed off.

 

“But?” he prompted.

 

“It just seems so… _sloppy_. I’ve seen his… former… scams firsthand, when I first met him, and he had every possible legal form on him, i’s dotted and t’s crossed perfectly.” She motioned toward the PawPad. “This is careless by comparison.”

 

She was tired. So very, very tired. It dawned on her that she had had hardly any sleep since before the Last Dance nightclub visit. The Last Dance. How could Nick have lied to her face there, and then risk his life to help her? Come to think of it, Nick had never actually _lied_ outright to her during the entire time she’d known him. True, he sometimes would omit things, and had let her jump to own conclusions. But lying? Her mind kept chasing itself in circles, but deep down, her gut had already made a decision.

 

“I don’t think Nick did this.” She couldn’t muster the energy to justify her thoughts further to the skeptical expression facing her. And still she had to march over to the ZPD, which now seemed so far away…

 

Her brow wrinkled, puzzled.

 

Peter raised an eyebrow, then followed her gaze and spotted a large, bulky animal in a ZPD uniform trudging toward them from the direction of the headquarters.

 

“McHorn?” Judy said, jumping up. Without a second thought she was off, with Peter scrambling to follow her. Within moments she was by the fountain, standing next to her fellow officer, craning her neck up toward the enormous rhino’s dead stare. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you just raise me on the radio?” Remembering Peter, she turned to him. “Officer McHorn was the one who took my radio messages when I was driving over here.” She turned back to stare at the rhino. “Did you relay my message to Forensics? If you have a name I can contact…” she trailed off as she watched her colleague fidget, clearly discomfited. The rhino had tiny eyes, but even from her distant vantage point by his knee, she could see the redness rimming them. The normally stoic officer was either exhausted or… close to tears? The dumbfounded rabbit considered such a thing as likely as Clawhauser going on a donut diet. And yet-

 

_McHorn stood smiling politely, but somewhat stiffly and distractedly. “Gotta go; see ya later partner,” he said abruptly, “keep it up, Hopps.” He then wandered toward the exit, absently scratching a spot on the base of his neck. Judy watched him leave, feeling her ears rise up in curiosity._

_“Poor guy,” Francine whispered to the two remaining mammals. For an elephant, a “whisper” created enough of a breeze to ruffle Judy’s fur. “He just learned today that his brother-in-law passed away.”_

_“Oh no! Sickness?”_

_“No, actually, some kind of auto or traffic accident, I think.”_

Was he grieving over his relative?

 

“McHorn? What’s wrong?” A horrid thought hit her. “Has someone been hurt?” McHorn steadfastly refused to meet her eyes. “Tell me! Is it Francine?” She knew the two partners were close. “Nick?” The word surfaced unbidden from her mouth.

 

The sharp, high pitch of her voice seemed to rouse the rhino. “No, Judy,” he rumbled tonelessly. He angled his head to peer down at her from one of his eyes. “I’m here to keep you from pulling your gun.” He sighed at her flummoxed expression. “Whoever shows up and whatever they say, you have to keep your weapon holstered. You understand?”

 

“What in the world-”

 

But McHorn merely nodded toward something over her shoulder. She whipped around, hand automatically on her holster, disregarding the officer’s warning.

 

“Hello,” said Fennel. The drifting spray from the great fountain cast a rainbow sheen over her head. “You actually came to meet Peter. I wasn’t sure you would.” Her smile was wide, too wide, and both smile and voice were brittle. “This is going to make things a lot easier on all of us. It would have been a lot more—complicated—if you had decided to go straight to ZPD.”

 

A bolt of comprehension flashed across the bunny’s mind, followed shortly by a crashing wave of existential fear. Fennel. She felt a brief stab of self-satisfaction. The nosy vixen was mixed up in this after all. But Peter? Was he? How could he?

 

Her radio was already in hand, but McHorn, standing behind her, knocked it out of her hand, showing surprising dexterity for such a large mammal. She stared up at him, mouth open, and then pulled out her phone.

 

“You know it’s dead,” said Fennel, not unkindly.

 

“How did you know-” Judy saw Fennel glance askance at Peter, who somehow seemed to have shrunken a foot. “Peter killed it, didn’t he?” The dominoes fell fast. “It’s bugged, isn’t it? My phone’s been bugged.” Violet eyes widened with dawning but reluctant understanding. “The app. The database app.” She whirled toward Peter. “It had a virus-”

 

“Technically, a worm that took complete control of your phone. I’m so sorry, Officer Hopps,” the rabbit said limply, a far cry from the buoyant personality Judy had first encountered at the Hall of Records just days ago. How could she have been so blind? She had even allowed herself a guilty daydream or two about him…

 

No self-pity. Clamp down. The truth. Find the truth.

 

Under the watchful stare of McHorn and Hodges, she turned to Fennel, the two females coolly appraising each other.

 

“Quite the acting job, Fennel. Is that your real name?”

 

“Actually, most of it wasn’t a performance. And yes, my name is really Fennel. You already did a background search on me.”

 

So she had. “But I’m starting to doubt anything involving records at this point,” Judy said, taking petty pleasure with a cheap dig at Peter. “I knew there was something off about you.”

 

“You’ve made that abundantly clear many times,” Fennel said frostily. “Not that any of that matters now. We’re past the point of no return.” She paused, staring into the fountain, as if trying to listen to a distant voice embedded in bubbling water. Judy glanced around. Their small coterie was at least 100 meters from anyone else, and the fountain noise would mask any conversation, even shouting. Peter seemed unarmed, but McHorn-

 

“No gun, Judy,” repeated McHorn wearily. He gave a surly look to Fennel. “Just spit it out before things get out of control.”

 

“Yes,” said Fennel. “Judy Hopps, you are going to drop the arson and Wiley investigation. Specifically, you are going to forget everything you saw this morning in the Nocturnal District, file a report that excludes this morning, and let the case be transferred smoothly over to District 4.” She paused. “So you actually don’t have to do anything. Just let standard police procedure play out.”

 

The vixen then seemed to steel herself for her next words. When she next spoke, her voice was much harsher.

 

“Now for the hard part. After our little chat, you are going to march back to the ZPD with McHorn and report directly to Chief Bogo about the fraud being committed by your partner. Using the evidence that Peter is going to provide, you will be prepared to testify against him and ensure…” her voice caught, “…and ensure that he is relieved of his duties and imprisoned as soon as possible. Shouldn’t be too hard,” she quickly snarled, “since I’m sure the ZPD was expecting a sneaky fox to try and pull off such a stunt eventually anyway.”

 

Judy felt nothing, her mind working too fast, her emotions now a mere bystander at this chess match.

 

“He’s innocent,” she responded grimly. She pointed to Peter. “That… rabbit’s so-called evidence is fake, forged-”

 

“Of course it is,” Fennel snapped. “Congratulations, genius. But it’s sufficient for your Internal Affairs to suspend him immediately and likely detain him without bail for a day or two.”

 

“And what makes you think I’m going to be your little puppet?” Judy asked, prominently flashing her buck teeth.

 

Fennel nodded at Peter, who reached into his pocket. Judy heard a beep from her belt as her phone reactivated.

 

“Well, for starters, during the next 24 hours you’ll be keeping your phone with you and charged at all times,” Fennel said. “That includes sleeping, eating, and peeing. You are going to put this band-” Peter pulled out a small rubber bracelet, “-around your wrist. It will monitor your pulse and use Shrewtooth to sync with your phone. If you remove the band or move further than 6 meters away from your phone, the phone will report it and there will be… consequences. Finally-” she paused as Peter pulled out yet another small object-” you will wear this small videocamera on your lapel at all times.” Judy automatically took the bracelet and small camera from Peter, and stared at them. The camera looked like a simple insignia pin that would clip unobtrusively on a uniform collar. “That camera is going to be monitored, in case you’re thinking about writing or typing a distress call to your partner or anyone else. You can try to write a note behind your back, but it’s been tried—ask McHorn.”

 

“Let me guess,” Judy frowned, staring at the items as if she were handling a dead cockroach. “If I don’t do as you say, or the phone or video loses track of me, you’ll kill me or Nick?”

 

Fennel broke into a small, nervous smile.

 

“We both know how cautious you are with your own life, so no.” Her eyes defocused, her voice distant. “If you violate the terms of this arrangement, they will kill McHorn’s wife, just like they killed his brother-in-law.”

 

Judy looked up at McHorn in horror. Fennel swallowed and trembled.

 

“And then they will kill your parents-”

 

Fennel’s voice broke.

 

“-and then they will kill my sister.”

 

* * *

 

            **Given the crickets chirping in terms of reviews, I’m concluding that many of you were a little disappointed in the cliché ending last chapter, which looked like yet another round of Nick lying to Judy. WTF? I imagined more than one person thinking, before deciding to follow their mother’s advice about “If you can’t say something nice, …”**

**The weakness of episodic fanfiction (if it is a weakness) is that it’s hard to execute dramatic plot twists (or extended plot payoffs) without first earning the trust of your readers, particularly if the twist or payoff extends for a few chapters. I learned this the hard way when I was writing my first extended fanfiction for Futurama (Don't Let Go is my third fanfiction, and only Zootopia story). At first blush the story looked like it was slipping into a standard clichéd shippy romance fic.   I then had a plot twist that revealed something much deeper and sinister was going on, but the twist was too large and too early in the story, and I lost half my readership before the twist was revealed.**

**So this time around, I’ve waited a bit longer to try a dramatic plot twist, figuring at this point that if you’ve sunk your time reading this 100K fic so far, you’d keep going even if you were disappointed in the conclusion of the last chapter. I also wrote the last chapter and this one at the same time, so I could release them relatively close to each other. When you have a plot twist, particularly involving OOC behavior, you need to resolve it quickly before readers resent you.**

**So I hope you are still here. If you are, thanks for both your patience and your trust. I believe I am four large chapters away (or five small chapters) from the end, and those of you drenched in TV tropes should have a reasonable chance in figuring out the trajectory of the story from this point.**

**Unfortunately, I will be out of internet contact from Friday through the rest of this month, but I’m bringing a notebook with me to keep writing. I’ve discovered that I write this story faster if I write by hand, then transcribe to the computer. I guess writing on a keyboard is too much like “work,” while writing out by hand is different enough from my other activities that somehow my brain perceives it as a “treat”.**

**As always, feel free to “treat” my brain with reviews!**

**And thanks again to TinBuzzard and MaxDrummer64 for previewing these past three chapters!**


	21. Rule of Holes

 

“-and then they will kill my sister.”

Judy stared at the vixen, still holding the imprisoning wrist strap and camera in one paw, her mind on overdrive. Time seemed to slow down, soccer balls drifted through the air, and the rainbows glittering from the fountain sparkled in Fennel’s light green eyes.

So it wasn’t just endangered animals that were being extorted, even kidnapped. Fennel, perhaps Peter, McHorn, and possibly unknown others, were being blackmailed into service. But why? Why go to all the trouble to virtually enslave these mammals?

_Fennel’s Findings._

Of course. She’s a reporter. A wannabe reporter, with aggressive instincts but no institution to back her up or support her when she looked for trouble and found it.

“You stumbled onto this group a while ago.” Judy blurted it as a statement, not as a question. “You were doing an investigation, you came across this organization, and then they’ve blackmailed you into working for them. This happened even before the arson fire.”

Fennel stood stone-faced, but from her eye’s corner, Judy spotted Peter leaning away from her slightly. Peter. A records specialist.

“And you, Peter. Did you stumble across this group as well? Some small record not quite right? Some numbers not quite matching?” Peter wouldn’t look at her. “And you found out a little too much, didn’t you? And now you’re all puppets working for this… this extortion group.”

“Just like you now, too,” Fennel sighed, indicating her bracelet. “You couldn’t be satisfied with a gift-wrapped suspect dumped into your lap, could you? But believe me, I understand.”

Judy hardly thought the bat had been delivered “gift-wrapped” to her, as she had nearly lost her life in the process, but more important topics beckoned. She stroked her ear, a studying habit her mother had tried to scold her out of many times during her school days. “But why approach the ZPD at all? Fennel, why’d you actually _help_ Nick and me? You came to us, and basically pushed me into Peter’s path.   And you-” she added, turning to Peter, “-you brought up the fact that all those coyotes were missing. Back at your office a few days ago. Were you ordered to put Nick and me on the coyotes’ trail?”

Peter glanced sidelong at Fennel, who shook her head. Judy rushed on, like Clawhauser sniffing out a stale donut.

“That’s gotta be it. This organization, whoever it is, wanted to find something. They wanted Sage, and somehow weren’t able to do it on their own. Why Sage?” Her brow furrowed for an instant, but cleared almost immediately. “Wiley. They needed Wiley, but weren’t finding him. That’s why they set that fire in the first place. To terrify Sage into revealing her brother’s whereabouts.” She paused, holding her chin in thought. “Although—that bat had quite a few firebombs on him last night. Maybe arson is another extortion tool, or a side racket for this group as well-”

“Judy…” McHorn began.

“But then Nick and I showed up at the fire. And someone, somewhere, decided that you should keep tabs on us. They even told you to feed us tasty tidbits to keep us hooked on finding Sage and Wiley. And we merrily led you right to them.” Judy frowned, angry with herself and how well she’d been played.

“Judy,” McHorn rumbled, more insistently. “She wasn’t kidding about my wife.”

“Yeah, getting yourself killed by your lack of self-preservation is one thing, but I’ll be damned if I let my sister get killed because you can’t just shut up,” growled the vixen. As if on cue, her phone buzzed, and she glanced down at the screen. Her eyes widened, her ears flattened, and her shoulders slumped, all traces of fire and anger extinguished.

“They’ve said to go ahead and activate her phone and let her messages through,” she nervously told Peter.

“You sure?” the rabbit said, a tremor in his voice.

Fennel looked Judy straight in the eye.

“I was serious in warning you. I know you don’t trust me, but trust me on this. These mammals are hearing and seeing everything that’s going on here. They’re even going to make you install cameras in your home and make you sleep with your lights on. And now it looks like they’ve decided to send you a message.”

Peter fumbled around in his pocket and brought out a device that looked like a jacked-up CarrotPhone. He performed a set of intricate maneuvers on the device, and Judy’s phone immediately stirred to life and released a series of small beeps.

“O.K., all her photos are deleted, including those sent to her by her partner,” the young rabbit muttered. “Her incoming texts should be visible now.”

“You see, Judy,” said Fennel, “all your incoming calls and texts were blocked once it became clear that you were going to continue the case and enter the Nocturnal District this morning.” She hesitated. “I know we don’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but I’m sorry this is happening. I hoped you wouldn’t get caught up in this. I just pray the message isn’t what I think it is.”

**VOICEMAIL. MOM.**

Her mouth cotton dry, Judy lifted the phone to her ear.

“Judy, it’s Mom.” Bonnie’s voice was calm. Too calm. Judy began to shiver. She remembered this no-nonsense voice, the one that emerged when a brother had broken an arm, or her toddler sister had swallowed some insecticide.   In a crisis, her mother somehow managed to detach herself from the immediate emotion, as if she could astrally project herself outside her body and observe the unfolding situation dispassionately, briskly shepherding family members into action and organization, directing resources like a general in battle. Emotional breakdowns would occur later, at a more convenient time. The calm tone frightened Judy more than any sobbing or hysteria could have ever achieved.

“You’re father’s had an accident in the truck while driving into town. He’s alive, but he’s going into surgery shortly. His tire either blew out or came off—they’re not quite sure what happened. Anyway, there’s plenty of family coming around to help with the kits, so don’t worry, things are under control. I just wanted to let you know what was going on so you didn’t hear from anyone else.” There was some noisy shuffling in the background. “I may not be able to answer this phone for a while, but I’ll have your sister Junnie keep everyone updated as soon as we learn how the surgery went. Love you honey, and pray for your Dad.”

Well aware of the searching stares of the rhino, rabbit, and vixen, Judy fought to keep her face neutral as she cut off the voicemail.

“Who was hurt?” Fennel asked. “Your parents, I guess?”

Judy wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak without her voice cracking, so she opted to glare at Fennel instead. The vixen returned her gaze with a hint of sympathy.

“They O.K.? Were they killed?”

Judy shook her head, and the three other mammals sagged their shoulders in relief.

“Why?” Judy managed to say.

“Probably to show you that they can,” Fennel said simply. “I’m guessing that they anticipated that you weren’t going to take them seriously and arranged this, um, demonstration, for you earlier.”

“And then waited for the right moment to let me find out about my father,” Judy said, in a slow hiss. Her shock was dissipating, being replaced with a quiet fury.   Her phone beeped. Incoming text.

Looking down, she blinked in surprise. It was a photo. Of her mother. Bonnie was sitting in what looked like a waiting room, her head resting against a jacket, eyes closed. Judy could tell that the slightly blurred photo was taken from across the room. The message was from an unknown number, which was strange, since she thought she had every possible family member entered-

Realization hit her like a giraffe’s car, and her fur bristled in fear. She almost balked in panic but forced herself to calm down. Intellectually, she had known that this group, whoever they were, meant business, but now she felt the emotional gut punch. She forced herself to concentrate.

The rabbit turned to McHorn. “You never forwarded my requests about the Vision Casino, did you?”

The rhino shook his head. “Sorry, Hopps. I got a message from this morning ordering me to monitor Dispatch. I guess when they learned you were heading back into the Nocturnal District, they wanted to make sure I was the one you’d pick up if you radioed in. No one else at the ZPD knows anything, as far as I know.” He couldn’t look her in the eyes. “I had to do it. They’ve already murdered my brother-in-law. You now know these mammals are serious,.”

Judy turned to Fennel. “What was this organization going to do if I hadn’t agreed to meet Peter just now?”

“I don’t know,” the vixen said, “and I’m not sure I want to know. I tried to head off things by suggesting that Peter contact you first, before they tried more, um, drastic measures.”

“You talk with them?”

“It’s all by text.” As Judy bored into her with her stare, Fennel dropped her eyes for the first time. “Your hacked phone had already revealed Officer Wilde’s past… transgressions, and I already had that information on paw. I’d a hunch that if Peter told you your partner was in trouble, you’d come running to him first, before heading to the ZPD. So I passed on the suggestion by text, hoping to avoid something more unpleasant.” Fennel raised her eyes once more, and her muzzle carried the hint of a smirk. “Call it feminine intuition. And it looks like I was right after all, so you’re welcome. Now, are you going to keep tempting fate and asking more questions? Even knowing that they’re monitoring everything we say, and even after they’ve hurt someone in your family? I know you’re reckless, but you’re not _that_ stupid, right?”

Judy remained silent, and switched her attention back to the wristband with disgust. “So you want me to wear this thing, and set Wilde up with this fake evidence.”

“The poor fellow basically buried himself by not being completely honest on his ZPD application,” Fennel sighed with disappointment.

“Why not just threaten or extort him, like you’re doing to me? Why wreck his career?”

“You’re a real piece of work,” Fennel growled. “Stop asking questions!” Her teeth were now bared, and for the first time in their brief acquaintance, Judy felt the vixen might actually attack her. She fought to control the twitching in her nose, and tamped down ancient instincts to flee.

“You know me well enough to know I’m a terrible liar,” the gray bunny growled back. “If these extortionists want me to set up my partner for a fall, I’m gonna have to be convinced there’s no other option. If I’m gonna be lying to his face, I’m gonna have to believe it’s for his own good.”

Fennel stared at her for a moment, then said out loudly and clearly, “I believe her. She needs to know why.” A few seconds later, her phone buzzed. After giving it a quick glance, she said, “Fine. Unlike you, Nick Wilde does not have a bajillion relatives to provide leverage. Don’t even know if he has living relatives.” She glanced at McHorn. “Accessing ZPD personnel information is tricky, apparently.”

“How’d you get mine?”

“Because you were trusting enough to download an unregistered app on your phone, and I’m sure there were a lot of “Hopps” and “Mom” and “Dad” entries in your contacts,” she snorted. “Peter must have been so _very_ charming.” Peter blushed, staring resolutely past Judy. “You’re honest and straightforward, Judy, at least in most things. You’re like an open book. Unfortunately, when you’re an open book, you’re often easy to read.” Fennel shrugged. “Now, Officer Wilde, he’s _quite_ the charmer and an accomplished flatterer, but that tod’s book is clamped shut.” She sighed ruefully, but with a hint of admiration. “I guess I’m not siren enough to get him to reveal anything about his family. I do hope,,” she said, worried, “that he’ll accept his upcoming suspension quietly and not raise a big fuss. Otherwise,” she continued, with real regret in her voice, “they’ll force us to destroy him.”

**Ninety minutes later…**

It began as a general unease that permeated the corridors, but rapidly expanded into quivering whiskers, swiveling ears, and tails twitching up in interest. As Fangmeyer, McHorn, and Wilde marched in near-military lockstep down the long spiral staircase toward the great hallway entrance of the ZPD, chairs turned, heads peeked up over cubicle walls, and bodies leaned against door frames, coffee cups in hand. Rumor, that swiftest form of communication, flitted ahead of the trio down the stairway and across the main reception area. Nick’s companions sensed the change in the atmosphere and drew themselves closer to the fox, the predator’s large paw clamped gently yet firmly on Nick’s shoulder. By the time the group reached the bottom of the stairway, it was as if the world’s smallest parade was in progress, with every eye in the hall a bystander.

It was the pawcuffs that drew the attention, of course. Fangmeyer and McHorn had had a short yet furious debate as to whether Bogo’s orders implied cuffing. The chief had actually not used the word “arrested,” only “detained,” after all. Fangmeyer had toyed with the cuffs on his belt, eyes fixed on Nick’s wrists, clearly uncomfortable with the prospect of placing them on someone wearing the bright blue uniform of the ZPD. The large feline couldn’t make himself take that last irrevocable action that would blare to the world that Nicholas Wilde, a ZPD officer decorated for heroism just a week ago, had just effectively been arrested on suspicion of welfare fraud, willful misrepresentation, and/or perjury on an official government document. Only McHorn’s obstinate insistence had finally persuaded Fangmeyer to attach the cuffs. Nick hadn’t resisted. He hadn’t done much of anything. His eyes, and thoughts, had been focused on Chief Bogo’s frosted doorway window, perhaps contemplating how in just a few minutes he had lost his career and his best friend.

While the cuffs were silent, their impact was the same as a blaring siren.   Wolford and the other candids scrambled to get a clear view of the group, while trying not to appear to be scrambling. A herd of pronghorn antelope, standing near the reception, sniffed the air nervously, subconsciously restraining an urge to flee.

“Is something going on?” one of them asked.

Ahead loomed the nerve center of the ZPD gossip network, old Benjamin Clawhauser himself, looking at Nick like a spider eying a particularly juicy fly. No, scratch that, Nick realized with a sinking heart. The cheetah’s ears were at full attention, but it was from shock, not anticipation. There were even hints of sadness at the corners of the dispatcher’s mouth. Sadness and disappointment. In him. That hurt the most. Nick could deal with the smug I-told-you-so expressions on several of the officers loitering along the perimeter of the great hall, including the hippo sergeant-at-arms Higgins. He’d faced those attitudes from day one on the force; indeed, he had dealt with similar disdain and dismissiveness all of his life. It was the surprise and disbelief in the faces of Clawhauser, Wolford, Francine, and the other officers he had cautiously come to consider friends that ripped him up on the inside. Not that he’d ever let anyone see. So Nick sauntered up to the dispatcher’s desk as if he were simply ending another shift. Just another routine day, nothing strange going on here, ignore the shiny cuffs on these wrists.

Higgins, who stood next to Clawhauser, arm leaning on the desk, wasn’t fooled by the act. His impressive jaw hinged open slightly in amazement at the sight of the approaching group.

“Now what’s going on here?”

“Chief’s asked us to put Wilde in temporary holding,” Fangmeyer replied.

The sergeant leaned forward, his beady eyes focusing intently on the fox.

“Oh he did, did he? I’m surprised he hasn’t done it sooner.” Nick bristled at the dismissive tone, but he and Higgins had never been on a first-name basis. Maybe ‘dislike’ was too strong a word, but Nick had always sensed an extra layer of skepticism in the hippo’s dealing with him.

“Beats me,” Fangmeyer continued. “I just heard the words ‘part of a disciplinary and possibly criminal investigation’ and then cleared out of there. Chief wasn’t in a good mood, and I wasn’t about to hang around and ask for details.”        

“What were his specific instructions?” Higgins asked briskly, looking up at McHorn, who had stood aloof from the conversation so far.

“Temporary holding cell for 24 hours,” grunted the rhino. “Chief is concerned about flight risk.”

“Flight risk!” exclaimed Clawhauser. “Nick, is this really happening?”

“It’s happening,” Higgins had a small grin now, the self-satisfied smile of one whose private doubts had finally been proven right by events. Nick met his sergeant’s gaze with dead seriousness.

“I’m being accused of something I didn’t do-”

“-which is?” asked Higgins, as the others leaned in slightly.

“I’m being held on suspicion of committing welfare fraud while employed as an officer of the ZPD.”

“‘While employed as an officer of the ZPD’-” echoed the hippo, stretching out the phrase. “Very precise phrasing. Something tells me that qualification is important, Officer?”

“I’ve had a colorful past, sir, as you know.   Ten years ago, I did some things that I’m not exactly proud of now. But I’ve been clean since taking the badge.” Higgins frowned doubtfully.

“So why is the chief snorting steam?” asked Fangmeyer.

“Somehow, someone must have gotten ahold of my bank account numbers to make it look like I’m still accepting unearned benefits, even after I joined the ZPD. I’m being framed, and I bet I know why.” He was conscious of the various degrees of skepticism running across the faces of the four officers. “The arson case Judy and I’ve been working on. Someone’s trying to stop us.”

“But you’ve gotten a confession on that case, right?” asked Clawhauser. “I mean, I just showed you the picture of that bat you guys arrested less than an hour ago!”

“Judy and I don’t believe it, and she was going to push further on it this morning. She must have uncovered something to provoke this distraction-”

“This is a lot more than a distraction, Wilde,” Higgins said coolly. “This may be your badge.”

“Speaking of Judy, where is she?” asked Clawhauser, looking around in a slight panic. “Does she know you’re in trouble? I’m kinda surprised she’s not already here threatening McHorn to take off those cuffs.”

Nick pursed his lips in a grim line and said nothing. Fangmeyer rubbed the back of his neck and looked across at the cheetah. “She knows. She was in the chief’s office. She might even have been behind… all this,” he gestured awkwardly toward the uncharacteristically taciturn fox.

“Judy…. turned you in for misconduct,” said Benjamin, incredulously, as if he had just heard Fangmeyer say that Gazelle’s music was ‘just OK’.

Nick could almost feel the pressure as the combined gazes of his fellow officers pivoted onto him. It was a hardening gaze, gazes of appraising cops, not companions. It was as if a flock of birds that had been fidgeting nervously on a fence had finally decided to take flight. He knew many of his colleagues liked him. Or at least tolerated him. But everyone trusted Judy.

Bogo’s door closed with a soft ‘click’. Despite the softness of the sound, all the officers jumped slightly. As one, they craned their necks to spot Judy, her long ears clearly visible above the railing as she peeped over the balcony down toward the front desk. With a jolt Nick realized that only a week ago, she and him had stood in that exact same spot, discussing how his recklessness during the arson fire had nearly gotten himself killed. At the time, he’d thought she’d never be that upset with him again. Fate must have had a good laugh at that. The bunny slowly moved along the railing, bypassing the stairway. As one, the officers realized that the usually spry comrade was actually going to take the _elevator_ down for the first time in institutional memory.

“I’ve got to go with Judy to pick up a witness,” McHorn rumbled, breaking a long silence. “You got this, Fangmeyer?”

“Yeah,” said the tiger, all business now. “C’mon, Wilde.”

“McHorn, talk to Judy,” Nick said over his shoulder as the tiger shepherded him away from the desk. “Find out what she did this morning, and either let me or Ben know. Something’s not right. I know you think so too.”

The rhino snapped his attention back to Nick, as if he’d just been tasered. “Whaddya mean, fox?” he said with a gruff hostility. Fangmeyer stopped, startled, and Nick raised his ears to full attention. He looked McHorn straight in the eye, cocking his head curiously.

“Let’s just say I’ve gotten pretty good at reading animals, and the way you’ve been standing, the way you’ve been looking everywhere but at my cuffs, and the way you’re not saying anything. Something’s bothering you about this, and I say, follow that instinct.”

The fox and tiger continued moving down the hall, and Higgins slapped the desk and walked away. Clawhauser turned his attention to the two rather confused antelope loitering uncertainly nearby, after having cast a last worried glance in Nick’s direction.

McHorn’s phone beeped a text message. His lip trembled in mute terror.

  

* * *

 

Temporary holding was intended to be just that—temporary. Just whitewashed walls with toilets and bars, and definitely not intended to make one feel at home. A hard wooden bench lined the walls of the largest enclosure, while the smaller cells had fold-down beds of various sizes, the next smaller built into the previous one. All had mattresses designed for cost-effectiveness and space efficiency, not for comfort.

Nick sat in one of the smaller cells, shoulders slumped. He was undersized for the mid-sized bed folded down from the wall. This, combined with his hunched posture and unfocused stare at the concrete floor, made him look small and vulnerable. The fluorescent bulb cast a harsh light off the bricked white walls, whose monotonous pattern was punctuated only by the occasional security camera. A drunken camel glanced curiously at the still figure while being transferred to the main cell, but otherwise the fox was left alone with whatever thoughts were running in his head.

His ears pricked up as he heard a familiar wheezing down the hall, and Clawhauser appeared at the barred door.

“Heeeeey, Nick,” he said awkwardly, rubbing his neck. “No word yet on your status; haven’t heard anything from Bogo.” He whipped out two pieces of paper. “But I have two letters for you. One was just handed to me by Judy, when she came back from her errand, and the other was dropped off half an hour ago by some vixen. She said her name was Fennel, and that you’d know her. Somehow she had gotten word about your… situation.” Clawhauser seemed to realize that his words had been tumbling out in a heap, and fell silent for a moment. “Am I right in guessing she’s your blogger fan?”

Nick took in a deep breath, stood up, and with a smile reached through the bars to grab the letters. “Yeah, she’s the one. Thanks, Ben.”

“Hang in there, Wilde,” said the cat. “I’m sure you’ll get released on bail, and then there’s a whole formal process for you to defend yourself and explain the situation. And looks like Judy’s willing to talk with you after all,” he added hopefully, gesturing the sealed letter Nick was inspecting. Nick paused and cast an inquiring eye at his friend. “Yeah, I was really, really tempted to peek. But I didn’t break the seal. Hope the letters help.”

“I’m sure they will. And thanks, Ben, for delivering them to me in person. It means… a lot… to me right now.”

The cheetah patted the bars a couple of times, winked, and turned to leave. Nick watched his friend’s spotted tail disappear up the stairs at the end of the hall, then sat back down and glanced at the two letters before seizing Judy’s and ripping it open, revealing one sheet of single-spaced paw-written sentences:

 

**Dear Nick,**

**I’m writing this because I can’t bring myself to face you now. I’m too overwhelmed, and writing is the only way I can sort out my feelings at the moment. You at least deserve a hand-written note. I guess I’ll start by saying goodbye. You’ve been one of the most important mammals in my life. You rescued (and really started) my career. You’ve saved me, I’ve saved you, and I’ve shared parts of myself with you I’ve never shared with anyone else, and may never share with anyone again. In a sense, I thought you were my soulmate, and you’ve made life at the ZPD feel like a pleasant dream over the past couple of years, even with all the paperwork.**

**Which makes it all the harder for me to write these next words.**

**I’m still in shock at how quickly a friendship we’ve built and solidified over the years could break so quickly, just in a matter of days. When you told me about Sage being your former girlfriend, I was fine with that, even though I was a little bothered you didn’t reveal this relevant information immediately at the start of an investigation. Then I had to discover on my own that you were married to her as part of a welfare scam, and then I had to basically force you to admit that point. I began to wonder how well I knew you after all, but after what I thought was our full “confessions” at the Last Dance the other night, I was still ready to forgive you. But this latest, Nick! Running this scam for years, even after you’ve taken an oath to protect and serve!   When ‘integrity’ is one of the words on your badge! Especially when you looked me in the eye with an honest face and swore that you’d told me the full story!   I’ve told you, I can’t be forced to make a choice between you and my life’s focus of upholding the law. I know you’ve said you’re innocent, and I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation, but Nick-there’s hard, documentary evidence against you, and I’m at the point where when I have to choose between the evidence and your word, I have to believe the evidence. You might say that your scam hurt no one, but you must have suspected that it would hurt me, because you never told me. And it has hurt me, Nick, it really has. I’m an emotional wreck, but don’t dare show anyone. Even if you manage to talk your way out of this situation and by some miracle remain on the ZPD, I’m afraid the trust we’ve shared is gone, and I can no longer in good conscience be your friend. You might not have any idea how much of my world you’ve shaken down with this stunt, but I need to move on and rebuild. So please, don’t try to text, call or otherwise contact me, even if you are released. I’m serious about this, and have asked Bogo to reassign me permanently with another partner. I’ve contacted Fennel as well; she may have more of what you need than what I’m able to give from now on.**

**Despite all that’s happened, I sincerely do wish you luck with the next upcoming chapter of your life, whatever that may be. I do hope that one day, you can be truly free of your past.**

**All the best,**

**Judy**

 

Nick stared at the letter for a long time, especially at the signature. He silently rubbed an eye, then placed the letter on the bed next to him. He opened the next letter, which was a double-spaced printout.

 

**Dear Officer Wilde,**

**Officer Hopps texted me about the situation you’re in! I honestly have no idea why she informed me (Sly fellow that you are, you’ve probably figured out by now that there’s no love lost between myself and your partner). Anyway, I called her back right away and we talked for a bit. She is very upset with you and feels no desire to be in contact with you right now. I don’t know whether this attitude is fleeting or permanent—my impression of bunnies is that they are rather fickle things when it comes to emotions, but Officer Hopps has always struck me as different from other rabbits—as if I have to tell _you_ that! But despite her feelings toward you, she feels you need someone on your side, and for whatever reason she chose me (maybe she has also told others as well?).**

**I can only imagine what’s going through your mind at the moment, but I’m sure your thoughts can’t be pleasant. Sorry if I sound like a broken record, but I’m sure if you were any mammal but a fox you wouldn’t have been treated this way.   Judy (forgive me if I’m being informal; I’m tired of typing ‘Officer Hopps’) says you claim you’re innocent, and I believe you absolutely. This situation that Judy described to me seems too obviously staged; maybe you think it’s related to your current case?**

**So I typed out this quick message just to let you know that at least _someone_ is on your side and still believes in you, and I’m trying to figure out what else I can do to help. Of course I’ll be writing some blistering blog posts to try to offset whatever official version the ZPD will spoon-feed to the mass media. It’s hard to fight fake news, especially when it confirms a mammal’s inbuilt prejudices, but I’ll carry your torch for you! As you have probably surmised with your big brain and (may I say) handsome nose, I carry a torch for you in more than one meaning of the phrase, _if you can read between the lines._ **

**If you need help with bail or other assistance to at least get you released, don’t hesitate to give me a call. You have my number. Please don’t think I have any expectations about us after your release. I just want to see justice done and you free to defend yourself.**

**Fond, fond regards,**

**Fennel**

 

Nick studied this letter much longer than he had examined Judy’s, stared up at the fluorescent lights, and then placed her note next to the handwritten one on the small bunk. He sat there for nearly an half an hour, alternating his gaze between a handwritten note closing a door on his past, with one offering a possible new future.

 

* * *

 

            Bogo, it seemed, did not need 24 hours to decide what to do with Wilde; he only needed four., The wheels of bureaucratic justice cranked forward with alacrity that Peter Hodges would have admired. Within four hours Internal Affairs released a formal recommendation to file charges, and Nick was marched out of his cell to stand in front of a mid-sized touch screen panel on the side of the holding cell. The formal charges were listed on the screen in front of him. After a pawprint scan and a breathalyzer test to confirm he was of sound mind, literate, and fit to plead, he entered ‘not guilty’. A synthesized female voice of a vixen repeated his entry verbally, earning curious looks from the stoat and pig sitting in the main holding cell, as well as from the bobcat, Crance, who was his attending officer. Nick hadn’t had much interaction with Crance before now, so he endured the skeptical look the short feline gave him with aplomb.

            Next came the matter of bail, and one (expensive) credit card transaction later, Wilde was being escorted up the stairs, temporarily a free fox.

            “As of now, you’re suspended without pay,” Crance said officiously. “I will escort you so that you can retrieve and turn in your taser and tranq gun to the armory.”

            “Can I go by my workspace to get some items?” Nick asked, examining the LED lights ringing the stairway with some frustration.

            “I can give you a few minutes there to retrieve personal items only. Because of your suspension, you are not permitted entry into ZPD facilities unless escorted by an on-duty officer. Why do you keep looking at the lights?” he added in some exasperation, as the pair went through a doorway that accessed a cubicle farm.

            “All the lights these days are so darn efficient,” muttered Nick. “Hardly enough heat off them to warm a mouse.”

            The bobcat shrugged off the non-sequitur as they reached Nick and Judy’s shared cubicle. Nick cautiously looked in, as if hoping Judy were sitting there. Empty. He glanced at the clock. 11 PM? He now thought he knew what Judy had felt like the day he had pranked her at the DMV. He winced at the memory, which now seemed to belong to a different past.

            “Mind if I take a moment?” Nick asked, turning to Crance. After a slight but noticeable hesitation on the part of the bobcat, Nick added, “Seriously? You have to stand there and watch me grab some pictures?”

            “Rules are rules, Officer Wilde,” said the officious little prick. “Gotta follow the rules.”

            “Guess we gotta,” grumbled Nick, and grabbed a couple of photos (most of which had Carrots present, either photo-bombing or grinning wickedly by his side), his spare phone charger, and an old-fashioned desk lamp with an incandescent light bulb.

            “That’s it?” asked the bobcat, eyeing the lamp oddly.

            “Family heirloom,” growled Nick. “I’m the sentimental type.”

            Five minutes later, after yet another escort to the locker room to change into civilian clothes (“You gotta stand there looking at me?” “Rules are rules, Officer Wilde.”), Nick walked through the nearly empty entrance hall, attracting attention only from Clawhauser’s nighttime doppleganger, a young buck named Terrance. The herbivore’s open stare informed Nick that the story of his situation had truly spread to every corner of the ZPD. He ignored the stare, nodded curtly to Crance, then exited the hall into the cool night air of the Great Plaza, trying not to trip over the electric cord dangling from his desk lamp.

            Within minutes, he’d found a hole-in-the-wall diner that only a step above an actual hole-in-the-wall, but he hadn’t chosen the place for its atmosphere. He had chosen it because it had an electrical outlet next to one of the Formica booths. He hastily ordered a coffee, plugged in the lamp, switched it on, and pulled out Fennel’s doubled-spaced letter.

**_If you can read between the lines…_ **

His ancient desk lamp let out a loud hum as the bulb threw out a faint light and a lot of heat. The tired-looking possum waitress that brought his coffee in a chipped cup looked curiously at the lamp sitting on the small table.

            “Getting some studying done, hun?”

            “Something like that,” Nick smiled gently, and sipped his coffee until his hostess had returned to the cash register. Looking around, he only saw a goat with red eyes and matted fur reading a newspaper in the far booth, a cheap cigarette smoking in an ashtray by his hoof. He held Fennel’s letter an inch or two above the naked bulb of his lamp.

            In just a few seconds, handwritten brown lines appeared between the double-spaced typewritten text. Nick grinned. How could a young thing like her, in these days of digital encryption, have known anything about invisible ink?

 

**As you have probably surmised with your big brain and (may I say) exquisite nose, I carry a torch for you in more than one meaning of the phrase, _if you can read between the lines._ **

**_<HTTP://bitely/8dj72l;s8a>_** **FOR YOUR EYES ONLY**

**If you need help with bail or other assistance to at least get you released…**

Nick was glad he had picked up his spare phone charger. He snapped a photo of the letter, then painstakingly entered the sequence of digits into his phone browser. It appeared to be a photo-sharing site, and a photo of a plain white piece of paper appeared, with a paw-written note hastily scribbled in stark black ink:

**THEY HAVE MY SISTER AS A HOSTAGE. EVIDENCE YOU NEED AT PO BOX 1864, SAVANNAH CENTRAL POST OFFICE, ACCESS 579201. THIS IMAGE WILL DELETE AFTER YOU READ THIS, SO COPY NOW.**

Nick noticed a timer counting down in the upper right corner of his screen. **1:30, 1:29, 1:28, …**

He scrambled out of his booth and ambushed the waitress, who was sitting on a stool watching an echidna, a porcupine, a shrew, and an ocelot (the token predator), chittering together excitedly on _The Scent_ about the latest fashion fad: _Curly-Q tails, Rad or Bad?_

“Excuse me,” he panted, “do you have a pen or pencil?”

“I think so, hun, let me just take a look around here…” The possum reluctantly tore her eyes away from the screen and leisurely looked over the small objects littering the scratched countertop. Nick glanced at his phone.

**0:56, 0:55, 0:54, …**

He gritted his teeth as the waitress squinted around the cash register, and was on the verge of leaping over the counter himself when she announced, “Oh, here ya go-”. He snatched the pen from her paws and wrote down the numbers quickly on a paper napkin.

“Thanks, ma’am,” he said, dropping the pen and a few bills on the counter while hurrying out the door, under the astonished stares of the possum and goat.

He paused, considering his next steps. He stared at his phone again.

**IMAGE DELETED.**

He still had his photo of Fennel’s original letter, and he messaged it to Judy, along with a comment that she should call him for further explanation. After pausing for a moment, he tried calling her. After two rings, it went to voicemail. He listened to her upbeat voice and even lingered over that awful Gazelle music soundtrack a bit longer than he usually did.  

The world was changing quickly, and the Zootopian Post Office knew that as well as anyone. E-mails, texting, online banking, search engines and digital media were gradually drying up the river of paper flowing through the ancient agency. Thus, despite being the central routing facility for the ZPO, the Savannah Central office diffused a slightly worn, unused ambiance as Nick keyed in the entry code to the post office box hallway. The faint smell of dust and antiseptic caused his nose to wrinkle as he opened the door and hurried to P.O. Box 1864. Tapping the same code into the digital keypad rewarded him with a faint click as the door opened. Empty. He looked closer. A small claim ticket sat in the back of the box.

It was past midnight when Nick finally arrived at Savannah Central Train Station, but since Zootopia never slept, the heart of the transportation network never slept either. Storage lockers had been abandoned years ago due to a never-ending series of panics about terrorism, foreign and domestic, but with rising anticipation, he saw that the left-luggage facility was still open. He presented the claim ticket to yet another possum (your go-to nocturnal animal for menial night-shift jobs, it seemed), and a minute or two later, he was handed a brown, paper-wrapped package.

Now what to do? Despite his attempts to lower his expectations, his heart was racing, and he didn’t have the patience to take the package to his house. He texted a quick photo to Judy.

**MESSAGE FAILED TO SEND.**

Cursing silently to himself, he hurried outside to one of the benches lining the railway platform entrances and sliced through the tape impatiently with one claw. A cautious sniff here, a careful listening for a ticking bomb there, a check for a trigger there, and-

“Please step away from the box, Wilde. Move slowly and keep your paws visible.”

Nick looked over his shoulder. Officer McHorn and… Judy… stood there in full uniform, in a stance he was trained to recognize that meant trouble.

“Fancy meeting you two here! Where’s the rest of the flash mob?”

Judy didn’t smile. She looked strained and stricken.

“He’s not joking, Nick. Please keep your paws up and back away. Leave the package there.”

Puzzled, Nick shook the sleeves of his windbreaker so that they slid away from his paws. He stood up slowly and sidled to the edge of the bench. McHorn loomed over him.

“Secure.”

“Examining scene,” responded Judy, gently opening a flap of the box with her telescoping pointer. Nick drank in every detail of her uniform and bearing.   There was no trace of mud left on her from this morning, and she looked as crisp and professional as she had been every day for the past two years. Her face, however, had an expression that was far less familiar. She seemed to be fighting a mixture of anger and despair.

“Oh Nick,” she said, despair definitely ascendant in her voice.

“What?” he replied as he saw her draw tiny latex gloves over her paws. From inside the package, she lifted out a sealed plastic vial encased in a small medical zip-lock bag. A computer-printed label was affixed to the clear bag, and the fox’s heart cratered.

“That’s not-”

“-drugs from the evidence locker,” Judy completed sadly. She looked over at her former partner. “We checked…” she had trouble finishing the sentence.

“Hopps thought she’d check if you were pilfering supplies from the evidence locker, given your recent, um, activities,” rumbled McHorn. “Turns out you’d logged entries into the locker a lot over the past ten months. And when we took inventory-” he nodded toward the now open box, in which Nick could see a veritable rainbow of pills, vials, and powders. And, to his dawning horror, he also saw an all-too familiar dark blue pellet.

Judy straightened her shoulders and turned to face the fox, her face a portrait of agony. “Nicholas Wilde, you are hereby under arrest-”

 

* * *

 

The stoat and pig were still in the main holding cell as McHorn escorted Nick back to his original cell. They both stood up and stared at him.

“Welcome back, dude,” grinned the stoat.

“Whoa bro,” slurred the pig. “That was fast. Not sure if I should pity you or admire you. Fight the system, man.” He raised a hoof in fraternal solidarity and then hurried to the stainless steel toilet to puke again.

Nick sat down. They had taken the lamp and pictures away from him. They had even taken his two letters.

He waited for the dawn and the reckoning he knew was coming.

 

* * *

 

**I had intended this section to be one chapter, but as I hit 12,000 I realized I should make it two chapters for three reasons. First, it’d make the chapter length match the others in this fic. Second, it would be a sneaky and cynical way to increase hits and (maybe) reviews. Finally, one of my beta readers advised “I was just so overwhelmed reading this whole thing, so I think it'd be best to post the first half soon and then the second half as the next chapter in about a week or so, just so other readers can have time to digest the first chapter and not have to endure a 12-thousand word chapter full of pure angst, drama and some genuinely frustrating moments (but in a good way!).”**

**Just so you know what’s coming. In a good way.**

**Thanks again to TinBuzzard and MaxDrummer64 for reading through this brick on a short timeline!**

**“True love requires sacrifice.” – Francis Chan**


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